Disdain, Agony, Hope, and Love
by anakinpadmeforlife
Summary: Pride and Prejudice from the eyes of Mr. Darcy. Love, affection, pain, and tons and tons of angst. HEA ending. *Disclaimer: This story is being written merely for the amusement and entertainment of fellow P&P fans. Jane Austen owns 75% of this work. I am only filling in parts of the plot with my own imagination as I see fit, for my own enjoyment as well as that of others.*
1. Chapter 1

Racing their horses across the field, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy halted in sight of Netherfield Park.

"It is a fair prospect," said Bingley to his friend, "though nothing to Pemberley I know. But I must settle somewhere."

Darcy looked at the house and thought about it. Compared to his own home of Pemberley, it was rather dull, and the company around it, from what he had seen on his journey, wasn't worth speaking about either.

"Do I have your approval?" asked Bingley.

Mr. Charles Bingley was like that - he never did anything without his friend's approval. Bingley was easily led and unsure of himself. Because of this trait, Darcy took it upon himself to take care of his friend, even to the extent of ordering his life for him.

"You will find the local company somewhat savage," said Darcy.

"Country manners? I think they're charming."

Apart from being easily led, Bingley had an openness of character and easiness in manner that Darcy envied sometimes. Bingley was determined to be pleased with everything and everyone he saw.

"Then you better take it."

"Thank you. I shall."

The recess over, the race continued. Darcy was first distracted by the fleeting sight of someone standing on the hill watching them, but thought little of it and soon pulled ahead of his friend.

* * *

Arriving at the entrance to Netherfield House, they were met by a Mr. Morris, who had shown them the surrounding area that morning, and was now to be their guide for the house.

Darcy was forced to admit that Netherfield was quite a handsome house. The rooms, if rather small, were done up quite nicely and the grounds were acceptable, though he would choose Pemberley over them any time.

After half an hour, Bingley said, "Mr. Morris, I am extremely pleased with Netherfield. I think I shall take it. What say you, Darcy?"

Darcy looked away from the window and back at Bingley.

"If your mind is made up, I think you will do very well."

"And how long will you be renting it for, sir?" asked Mr. Morris.

"Oh, I don't know. I have no fixed plans. But I hope I will stay for quite a while."

"Very good sir."

They left Netherfield and Hertfordshire that evening for London, to inform Bingley's sisters and brother-in-law of their success.

Bingley seemed extremely pleased, and talked of nothing but his hopes for good neighbours, pleasing acquaintances and generally happiness for his time at Netherfield.

Darcy took all this in. His thoughts were on a very different topic, however.

He did not look forward to returning to Pemberley that autumn. No matter how beautiful it was and the company of his sister most delightful, he still felt rather alone. Since Georgiana's near fiasco at Ramsgate, Darcy had become aware, that when Georgiana did marry and leave him, he would be all alone.

Darcy knew that something was missing from his life, but knew not what it was.

"Darcy, would you like to stay with me at Netherfield for a while?" asked Bingley, disturbing his thoughts, "My sisters will be there, as will Hurst."

This invitation was welcome - company, even though Miss Bingley, Mr. and Mrs. Hurst weren't the best companions in the country, would be a relief to the loneliness, that was never far from his heart.

"Thank you - I accept your invitation."

"So what do you think?" asked Bingley.

"Of what?"

"Of my future neighbours. Mr. Morris told us all about the prominent families in the area, do you not remember?"

"Remind me one at a time."

"There are two main families, the Lucases and the Bennets. The Lucases reside at Lucas Lodge. The head of the family was made a knight and lives there with his lady and children. The eldest, a daughter by the name of Charlotte Lucas, is twenty seven, rather plain but practical and intelligent. There is another daughter, Maria, pretty but rather empty headed, according to Mr. Morris. There are various other children which he did not talk about."

"And the parents?"

Sir William Lucas is a gentleman, always sees the best in everyone and lavish in his praises. Lady Lucas, said Mr. Morris, is not clever, but I believe she will be as likable as her husband."

I doubt that, thought Darcy, but unwilling to return to the melancholy of his mind, continued the subject. "And the Bennet family?"

"Mr. Morris could not be silent on the subject of this family, so the information he gave is quite extensive."

"And what is so extraordinary about them?"

"The Bennets live at Longbourn, which is about three miles from Netherfield. Mr. Bennet is a man of wit and intelligence and enjoys a good book. Mrs. Bennet has a problem with her nerves; whenever she is rather stressed, she takes to her bed. But she has a good heart and loves her family very much."

"And the children? How many sons and daughters?"

"The Longbourn estate is entailed onto a male relative, which is unfortunate, for the family consists of five daughters. They are reputed to be the jewels of Hertfordshire as they are all very handsome."

"An over exaggeration, no doubt."

"Come man, there has to be some truth in it. Well, the youngest girl, Miss Lydia is a tall fifteen-year old, pretty and good-humoured. Kitty, seventeen, is similar to Lydia to a lesser extent. The third child, Mary is the most accomplished, she studies books, plays the piano and sings."

"Accomplished by country standards, no doubt."

"Elizabeth, age twenty," continued Bingley, ignoring the remark, "is the second most beautiful, dark haired and dark eyed. She has a lively, playful disposition and a very good conversationalist, but can be rather taciturn when in deep thought. Rather like you," said Bingley, looking at his companion.

Darcy ignored this. "And the eldest Miss Bennet?"

"Miss Jane Bennet is the beauty of the family, in form and spirit. She has apparently a sweet and mild disposition and sees good in everyone."

"Much like you, Bingley."

"Yes, like me," said Bingley, smiling.

"Are they all out?"

"I believe so."

"That is quite singular. The eldest are not married and yet the younger sisters are already out."

"Come now Darcy, just because their elder sisters are not married does not mean that the younger girls cannot enjoy society as well."

Darcy made no answer but thought over this information. Despite all of the praises he had heard of the Miss Bennets, he thought the information was exaggerated and not worth his attention.

* * *

All too soon, they arrived at London. Bingley was to return to Hertfordshire in a few days to oversee preparations for his guests, and then return to London to escort the party to Netherfield.

As Darcy and Bingley gave their hats and coats to the servant, Miss Bingley came in to greet them.

This lady was tall, quite handsome and well accomplished. She and her sister were eager to forget that their fortune had been acquired by trade, and in order to rise still higher in the social ladder and to burn all bridges between her and her past, Miss Caroline Bingley was trying to win Darcy's affections and become his wife.

Darcy sighed inwardly when she entered. She was nothing more to him than the sister of his best friend, and he had no intention of bringing the relationship any further. But no matter how skillfully or politely he deflected all her attempts at securing his attentions, she never took the hint.

Darcy knew that she was not the woman for him. He did not know who was, but he knew without a doubt that it was not Caroline Bingley.

"And how did you find Netherfield, brother?" began Miss Bingley smoothly.

"I found it beyond my expectations. In fact, I was so taken with it, I have agreed to rent it and I hope you will all stay there with me for some time," said Bingley happily.

Miss Bingley's eyes narrowed. "Mr. Darcy, how long did it take for Charles to make up his mind?"

Darcy was a truthful man and though he wanted to spare his friend from one of his sister's lectures, he could not lie about it either.

"I believe it was half an hour."

"Half and hour? Brother, do you remember what I have said about hasty decisions?"

Still caught up in his pleasure of finding such an agreeable house, Bingley said, "Yes, sister dear, I do remember. But I think that Netherfield is stunning, and I know that you will love it."

"Stunning?" repeated Miss Bingley as they walked into the drawing room, "Mr. Darcy, how is it in comparison to Pemberley? I doubt Weatherfield surpasses the beauty of that place."

"Netherfield, Miss Bingley," replied Darcy indifferently. "And though it is nothing to Pemberley, I still admit that it is quite a delightful place."

"Well then," said Miss Bingley with a self-satisfied smile, "If it is as you say so, Mr. Darcy, then I believe that Netherfield must be so."

Darcy did not answer. Miss Bingley's ploys, agreeing with him, pretending to share his interests and such were all too transparent.

Bingley returned to Netherfield some days later. The servants had already settled in and Mr. Bingley and his guest were to follow before Michaelmas.

Bingley's absence left Darcy to the company of the sisters. Mrs. Hurst was similar to Miss Bingley in character, while Mr. Hurst was an indolent man, who lived only to eat, drink, and play at cards.

In order to have some respite from such company, Darcy often went into town, buying gifts for his sister. Various pieces of music by composers such as Haydn and Mozart which were in vogue at the moment were some of Georgiana's favourites. For himself, he often went in search of books to add to his library.

When Mr. Bingley returned on September 25, he was full of news.

"Darcy, I have met some of the people. Remember Sir Lucas who I told you about? He came to see me and expressed his delight in seeing someone in possession of Netherfield again. And there is to be a ball soon after our arrival, and we are all invited."

"A ball, given by those country people?" inquired Miss Bingley distastefully, "It cannot be anything of importance in comparison to the ones we have been to here in town."

Darcy met the news with some alarm. He was not easy in company, and had not the pleasure of conversing easily with those he had never met before. And to be in a room full of strangers, who were below his station and he would have no idea as to how he should deal with such people, was rather intimidating. But by the look in Bingley's face, there was no way he could escape the ball. And so he would deal with the situation as he usually did.

In truth, Darcy was rather shy of those he had never met before and did not know. He usually hid this under a veneer of coldness and aloofness, as protection from any embarrassment.

"I also had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of Mr. Bennet."

"Mr. Bennet?" asked Miss Bingley, "you seem pleased. Why were you so happy that you have met him?"

"His five daughters are the most beautiful girls in Hertfordshire. I was eager to se them, but I could only see the father. But it matters not - no doubt we shall meet them at the Meryton assembly."

Darcy fervently hoped Bingley would not fall in love with any of the famous Miss Bennets. Bingley fell in and out of love very quickly - one day he would declare he could not live without a sight of a Miss so-and-so, and he would have forgotten her by next week. Bingley continually formed attachments, but never any serious ones, and when the lady in question had lost his affections, she usually ended up most unhappy. Darcy hoped, for the sake of the ladies that Bingley would not form any designs on any of them.

"I somehow doubt, brother, that these Miss Bennets will be as beautiful as any of the London ladies, or surpass the lovely Miss Darcy," said Miss Bingley.

(Another of Miss Bingley's ploys was to continuosly praise his sister.)

Darcy ignored the remark and walked over to the window, and stared at the people passing below.

"Well," said Bingley looking around the room, "shall we leave tomorrow?"


	2. Chapter 2

Bingley, Hurst and Darcy waited at the bottom of the stairs for the ladies. As usual, Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley were taking a long time to prepare themselves.

"Caroline, Louisa, where are you?" called Bingley, "We are already late!"

Amazingly, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst appeared.

"Come now, Charles," said Mrs. Hurst, "we are not that late."

They walked gracefully down the stairs, Miss Bingley complaining all the way.

"I do not see why we have to attend this!" she said. "We only arrived this morning, and we have to attend an assembly full of these country barbarians!"

"Waste of an evening, I say," growled Hurst.

Darcy did not waste words and breath complaining, but resigned himself to enduring a trial; meeting strangers, young ladies who would look upon him as their rightful prey, evading meaningless and pointless conversations. If he had a choice, he would not go, but Bingley was adamant upon his coming.

Finally, they got into the waiting carriages and drove off to the Meryton Assembly.

* * *

Darcy was not happy about attending something against his will, and was determined to think ill of everything and everyone. Even if he did find the people better than his expectations, his obstinacy would prevent him from admitting it to Bingley, and to himself.

They got out of their carriages outside the Red Lion. Bingley out on his hat and smiled in anticipation. Darcy followed suit, then paused, waiting for the others. He listened to the rather badly played music floating out the window, and the sounds of laughter and dancing inside.

Miss Bingley sidled up behind him and whispered to him, "Shall we be quite safe here, Mr. Darcy, do you think?"

Before he could answer, Mr. Hurst stepped out and said, "Damned silly way to spend an evening."

Darcy agreed with him.

* * *

After hanging up their hats and coats, the group went into the room.

The room fell silent for a minute as everyone turned to look. Darcy was glad to be at the back, where he was not so easily seen.

He gazed around the room. There were more people than he felt comfortable with, and the ladies outnumbered the gentlemen, but none of the ladies were anything more than scarcely pretty. His expectations were fulfilled; there was no one here worth talking to, no one here with taste or elegance. He could not wait for the evening to finish, though it had hardly begun.

A man, balding, plump, with a large smile, walked up to them and introduced himself as Sir William Lucas. He welcomed them all to the neighbourhood, and Darcy listened as Bingley commented that he loved nothing better than a country dance. With that, the music started up again and the next dance began.

Darcy watched as his friend was taken to be introduced to everyone in the room. As the Netherfield party spread out, he was more easily seen, and he soon heard praises about himself - how handsome he was, his large estate in Derbyshire and most importantly, his income of ten thousand a year.

Darcy tried to ignored them, and so that none of his apprehension or disgust would show, put on a mask of snobbishness and rejection.

He followed Bingley to a group of young ladies.

Sir Lucas introduced Bingley to a Mrs. Bennet, who flamboyantly curtsied and began to introduce her daughters.

Darcy was curious to see the famous Miss Bennets, but had no intention of dancing with them, or anyone else.

"This is Jane, my eldest," said Mrs. Bennet.

The young lady on her left, Darcy was forced to admit, was beautiful. She was tall, with a lovely face, and a sweet smile. If all of her sisters were as beautiful as her, then they would certainly deserve their reputation.

Darcy caught himself approving of her. In an attempt to find some fault in her, he looked at her more closely. In the end, the only fault he could find, was that she smiled too much, but deeply he knew that it wasn't a fault at all.

" . . . and Elizabeth,"

The girl on her mother's right was, to his eyes, a pale shadow of her sister. In comparison, she was rather ordinary. She had dark hair and eyes, an average height, a smile that was tolerable and nothing else extraordinary.

" . . . and Mary, sits there,"

He looked at a rather ugly girl, with bad hair, glasses and a an uninterested look at the scene before her. She was sitting down by the wall and no gentleman appeared interested in asking her to dance.

" . . . and Kitty and Lydia, you see there dancing."

The last two daughters were cavorting around with a number of young men. None were as beautiful as the eldest Bennet girl, and were quite loud and silly.

All in all, only Jane lived up to the family's reputation of possessing the jewels of the country. The second was nothing beautiful out of the ordinary, the third was plain, bordering on ugly, and the last two were nothing extraordinary either.

Bingley, with no surprise, claimed Miss Jane for the next dance.

Mrs. Bennet asked Bingley about Darcy. Bingley introduced him to the Bennets. Darcy did not want to be introduced to them, but he could not escape the greeting.

Darcy suddenly found himself addressed by Mrs. Bennet, who asked if he too, was fond of dancing.

He did not like Mrs. Bennet, her high pitched voice and continuos talking got on his nerves.

"No, I hardly ever dance."

"Well let this be one of the occasions; for I'll say you'll never seen such lively music, or such pretty partners."

In an effort to distance himself from them, Darcy curtly bowed and left. As he walked away, he heard Mrs. Bennet rudely insulting him on his bad manners.

Darcy did not care - he cared nothing for such people, did not know how to talk to them, found no elegance or taste and was appalled by their manners. But still, what could one expect from such . . . . barbarians?

The dance ended and Darcy watched as Bingley and Miss Jane went down the dance. Darcy hoped his friend would not fall in love with the girl, but it seemed that Bingley's opinion of her was high, for he introduced her to his sisters.

As the night progressed, so did every one's bad opinion of him. Darcy ignored it all, and walked about the room. Once he sat down, but found himself being addressed by a Mrs. Long. He shortly answered her and left.

There was a clock on the wall, and Darcy kept looking at it, impatient for this to be over.

Darcy paused as Bingley left the dance for a moment to talk to him.

"Come Darcy, I must have you dance," said he with a happy smile. "I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance."

Darcy sighed inwardly. He had no intention of dancing.

"I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner."

This was true - Darcy had never forgotten one particular ball, some years ago, when, after being teased by his friends, asked a young lady, of whom he knew only her name and relations, for a dance. At the time, he was not a good dancer, and it was the only dance he had danced all evening. Because he had danced only with her, Miss Caroline Bingley was convinced that Darcy found her attractive and, since then, had chased him in a vain attempt to become his wife.

Though time had given grace and majesty to his dancing, it had not improved his shyness or wariness in asking ladies for dances.

"At such an assembly as this, it would be insupportable."

At this assembly, there were no people of his social circle. He did not know any of them, he would normally have nothing to do with them.

"Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with."

In truth, it was also a punishment to stand up with Bingley's sisters, but at least one was married and therefore could not try to snare him, and it was better to put up with one lady, of his social circle, who was desiring his attentions than with more, including those who were lower than his station.

"I would not be so fastidious as you are," cried Bingley, "for a kingdom! Upon my honour I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life, as I have this evening; and there are several of them, you see, uncommonly pretty."

Of course you have, thought Darcy. And none of the ladies are worth the praise of beautiful, except the eldest Miss Bennet.

"You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room," said Darcy, nodding towards the lady of whom he had been thinking.

"Oh! she is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you."

Oh no, groaned Darcy inwardly. Now Bingley is trying to set me up with one of them.

But it was more than that - as Bingley's superior, he should be dancing with Miss Jane, not Bingley. And to add to the insult, Bingley was offering him the less attractive sister.

It was the principle of it, and he wasn't even going to consider the sister.

"Which do you mean?"

He turned to see Miss Elizabeth, sitting beside her sister Mary and looking at him with an expression of amusement.

Hiding his disgust, he said coldly, "She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; and I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me."

Thankfully Bingley took his advice.

Darcy then observed the second Miss Bennet rise from her seat and walk towards a group of girls, whom he presumed to be her friends. As she passed him, she gave him a look.

Darcy was used to looking like that at other people, but was not used to being looked at like that himself. He stared after her as she whispered something to a girl he remembered as Miss Lucas. They looked at him then they both laughed.

He turned away so they would not see him blushing. Miss Elizabeth's actions were most strange; she was the first woman he had seen who had laughed at him instead of trying to win his affections.

He shook himself and forgot about her. Then he decided to take Bingley's advice after all. He asked Mrs. Hurst to dance.

Thankfully, Mrs. Hurst had an energetic tongue, and he didn't have to say anything except make noises of agreement. Unfortunately, Mrs. Hurst could talk of nothing but her sister's accomplishments and advantages. Obviously, she was trying to assist her sister in Miss Bingley's pursuit of him.

When the dance ended, he asked Miss Bingley to dance.

If Mrs. Hurst could talk of nothing but her sister, Miss Bingley could say nothing but praise himself, his sister and his estate (the latter especially). Darcy ignored her.

For this dance, Bingley had asked for Elizabeth to dance with him. As Darcy and Miss Bingley passed Elizabeth, he happened to look at her.

She had an amused look on her face, as if she knew what was going on between him and his partner. This too, was singular, as most ladies would be jealous and disappointed that Darcy was dancing with someone else. But this lady did not care, and looked at him again in the same way she had moments ago.

It was most curious, and he pondered over it for the rest of the evening.

Finally the ball ended, too late in Darcy's opinion, but not late enough for Bingley.

* * *

The Netherfield party sat in the drawing room for tea before bed. Darcy stood by the fire, eager to get to his bed.

"And so none of the Hertfordshire ladies could please you, Mr. Darcy? Not even the famous Miss Bennets?"

"Well, I never met with pleasanter people or prettier girls in my life," said Bingley before Darcy could react.

"Bingley, you astonish me," Darcy said. "I saw little beauty and no breeding at all. The eldest Miss Bennet is, I grant you, very pretty."

"A fine concession," Bingley replied in a slight miffed tone. "Come, man. She's an angel."

"She smiles too much."

"Oh, Jane Bennet is a sweet girl. But the mother!" said Miss Bingley in a shocked tone, "I heard Eliza Bennet described as a famous local beauty. What do you say to that, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy realised that Miss Bingley was more observant than he thought. She had noticed his curiosity about the girl.

But there was nothing wonderful about her, certainly nothing to her sister.

"I should as soon call her mother a wit."

"Oh, Mr. Darcy, that's too cruel!" laughed Miss Bingley.

"Darcy, I shall never understand why you go through the world determined to be displeased with everything and everyone in it," said Bingley, joining him by the fire.

Darcy thought over this for a moment. Since Georgiana's near escape last summer, Darcy had become more wary and suspicious of other people, and so alienated many he met before he could learn more about them in an effort to protect himself and Georgiana from any others who might hurt them.

Wickham, had been a close friend in times past. If a friend could wish such harm to them, what would a stranger do?

"And I shall never understand why you are in such a rage to approve of everything and everyone that you meet," replied Darcy.

"Well, you shall not make me think ill of Miss Bennet, Darcy." Bingley sighed and walked away.

Oh no, thought Darcy, he's falling in love with her.

"Indeed, he shall not. I shall dare his disapproval and declare she is a dear, sweet girl, despite her unfortunate connections, and I should not be sorry to know her better," said Miss Bingley from her seat.

"No. No, nor I. You see, Mr. Darcy. We are not afraid of you," added Mrs. Hurst.

"I would not have you so," said Darcy.

He wondered why he said that. He did not know.

Mr. Hurst woke from his slumber long enough to say, "What? Very true. Damn tedious waste of an evening."

Darcy soon left to his bedchamber.

* * *

That night, as he lay in bed, he found his thoughts wandering to the Bennets.

Mrs. Bennet, the less said of her the better.

Miss Lydia, Miss Catherine and Miss Mary are nothing.

Miss Jane is, from what I have seen, sweet, mild and handsome. But time will tell if she will remain so.

And Miss Elizabeth . . .

He wondered what was the meaning behind the look she had given him. He was completely puzzled.

Forget her, he thought angrily.

She is of no consequence. She will be of no importance in your life!

He fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Over the next fortnight, the Netherfield party saw one or other of the Bennets five times.

Darcy came down one morning to find the two eldest Miss Bennets and their mother visiting Bingley and his sisters. He said a polite greeting then walked to the window, from where he could observe the scene unfolding in front of him.

Bingley began talking to Jane, and Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst joined him. Miss Bingley and Miss Bennet seemed to get along quite well, and soon began to call each other by their first names. Darcy privately thought Bingley's sisters were only befriending Miss Bennet because their brother approved of her.

Mrs. Bennet would not keep quiet and Darcy did his best to ignore her and her not-so subtle comments on his behaviour at the Meryton Assembly. He cared not what she thought, but the woman was getting on his nerves. She rambled on about the wonders of Netherfield, praised Mr. Bingley and his sisters to the skies, and reminded Bingley of his saying that he would hold a ball at Netherfield.

Darcy turned his attention to Miss Elizabeth, who stood and watched her sister conversing with her new friends. She frowned as she observed the Bingley sisters.

He looked at her closely, still trying to determine the meaning behind the look she had given him at the assembly. But he could find no inspiration.

His opinion of her had not changed. She was still only tolerable. There was hardly a good feature in her face, her figure was not perfect and she had quite a sharp tongue, he noticed in her playful, teasing comments.

She at least, had the sense to be embarrassed by her mother's behaviour, and sometimes looked as if she wanted to be far away.

Darcy took no part in any of the conversations, and thankfully, Miss Bingley did not talk to him either. He kept his position, and watched everything with a critical eye. After a while, he saw Miss Elizabeth glance at him, raise her eyebrows and smile.

He got the distinct impression she was still laughing at him.

* * *

Miss Bingley had extended an invitation to the eldest Miss Bennets to dinner, and this dinner took place two days later.

Whether by accident or design, Jane had sat to Bingley's left, with her sister beside her, and Hurst beside Elizabeth.

Darcy found himself in between Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, and across from Miss Elizabeth.

As the dinner progressed, Darcy added another criticism to his list. He found that Miss Elizabeth's manners were not those of the fashionable world; at times he thought they were downright impertinent.

Music was called for after dinner, and when Jane was asked to perform, she replied that she did not play or sing. Darcy saw that Miss Bingley sniggered. Miss Elizabeth seeing this asked if she could hear Miss Bingley play, and the lady complied.

She performed quite admirably, but he privately thought that his sister was still the better. Miss Bingley concluded with a smile towards him and said, with false modesty, that Miss Darcy was the most wonderful performer, and that she was nothing to her. As if to play up her performance, she requested that Miss Elizabeth to entertain them with a song.

Darcy listened with a critical ear. In comparison to his sister, Miss Elizabeth was by no means capital, but her unaffected playing was enjoyable to listen to.

* * *

"So, what do you think of them, Mr. Darcy?" asked Miss Bingley, that night after their guests had departed.

"I confess that the eldest Miss Bennet is quite pretty, with the deportment of a lady of rank," he replied. That night he had finally conceded that Jane was a wonderful lady, and he could see why Bingley was taken with her.

Mr. Bingley looked pleased with Darcy's opinion.

Looking at his friend, Darcy decided to let things run its course. In time, Bingley will forget the girl, and so there was no need to interfere.

"I must say that I find Miss Eliza quite . . . insolent at times," mused Miss Bingley. She looked at him, as if she was worried that she might have a rival for his affections. No doubt she had noticed his preoccupation with Miss Elizabeth.

Miss Bingley did not need to worry.

"She has hardly a good feature in her face, though her manners are not as you would describe them, they are sometimes not what I would call polite."

Miss Bingley looked content.

* * *

That night, he wondered why he was taking so much of an interest in the second Miss Bennet. He realised that she was an intriguing creature, and . . . . . different to other ladies he knew.

* * *

Mrs. Bennet had been very eager to have them all over for a dinner at Longbourn, and so the Bennet's visit was returned.

This was also the first time they had met Mr. Bennet. Darcy looked at the man and decided that he was a person of sense and intelligence. Soon after the dinner (Mrs. Bennet had placed Bingley beside Jane), Mr. Bennet had retreated to his library, which Darcy could approve of. He did not approve of the way Mr. Bennet teased his wife with sarcastic remarks, which she was too ignorant to understand, though Darcy did admit he found it quite amusing. Nor did he approve of the fact that Mr. Bennet refused to rein in the wildness of his two youngest daughters.

The youngest, Miss Lydia if he remembered correctly, behaved in a way he found shocking. She would shout across the room or whisper in the corners to her sister Catherine and laugh, or interrupt while people were talking. Nor was her conversation worth listening to - all she could speak of were the officers of the militia that had encamped in Meryton.

Throughout the evening, he had said little, but spent the time looking at Miss Elizabeth. Being so different from ladies like Miss Bingley, she was a puzzle.

"Will we see you at the Lucas Lodge party, Mr. Bingley?" asked Mrs. Bennet.

"Yes, I wouldn't miss it for the world. It will be wonderful to meet those of whom I made an acquaintance with at the assembly," replied Bingley.

"And I do hope that we shall see you dance, sir," added Mrs. Bennet.

"Of course."

"Ah, of course," she repeated, "Unlike others, you enjoy the pastime and do not think it beneath you to dance with those who are not of your position," said Mrs. Bennet, with a significant look towards Darcy.

Darcy, again ignored her. He was looking at Miss Elizabeth's face.

He was forced to acknowledge that her face was actually quite pretty, especially by the expression of her dark eyes, which made her look quite intelligent. With her dark hair, she seemed the opposite of her sister, especially with her easy, playful disposition in comparison to Jane's quiet and sweet temper.

They left soon after. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst laughed over the behaviour of the Bennets, but amended their criticisms with lavish (and sometimes insincere) praises of the eldest daughters.

* * *

The two eldest Bennet girls dined in the company of the Netherfield party two more times. Darcy watched as his friend seemed to become even more enchanted by Miss Jane, but most of his attentions were upon the sister.


	4. Chapter 4

Darcy entered Lucas Lodge with some feeling of trepidation.

Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst kept to themselves talking quietly. Sometimes someone would talk to them, but their responses were not encouraging to extend the conversation further. Bingley, with no surprise, attached himself to Miss Jane Bennet and there he stayed for most of the evening. Mr. Hurst attached himself to the punch bowl.

There were a number of officers from the regiment stationed in Meryton. Darcy found little of interest in them, but rolled his eyes at the way the officers flirted with the young ladies.

Some young ladies seemed to enjoy and encourage their attentions. Darcy watched as Miss Lydia Bennet caroused about with her sister Kitty, as she liked to be called, and some of the Lucas children.

Darcy spent the evening walking about the room, speaking little, only if someone addressed him. The only source of pleasure he found that evening was while studying Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Darcy had at first scarcely allowed her to be pretty; he had looked at her without admiration at the ball; and when they next met, he looked at her only to criticise. But no sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she had hardly a good feature in her face, than he began to find it was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To this discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying. Though he had detected with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect symmetry in her form, he was forced to acknowledge her figure to be light and pleasing; and in spite of his asserting that her manners were not those of the fashionable world, he was caught by their easy playfulness.

He walked closer to her as she was conversing with the colonel of the regiment, who seemed like quite an agreeable man, though his wife was much like Lydia and not worth listening to. Miss Lucas was also present, but her attention did not seem to be on the conversation. She was looking at him - not as if she admired him, but as if she had noticed something about him, or his actions.

Darcy listened to their conversation. Though the topic was not interesting, about the officers giving a ball, it was made interesting by Elizabeth's playful teasing. Suddenly, the lady addressed him.

"Did not you think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?"

"With great energy; but it is a subject which always makes a lady energetic," said he, trying to find a way to answer her and coming up with a rather dull reply.

"You are severe on us," replied the lady, smiling at him with sparkling eyes.

"It will be her turn soon to be teased," said Miss Lucas. "I am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows."

"You are a very strange creature by way of a friend! always wanting me to play and sing before any body and every body! If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would have been invaluable, but as it is, I would really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers," she said with another of those indecipherable glances at him. On Miss Lucas's persevering, however, she added, "Very well; if it must be so, it must." And gravely glancing at Darcy, she said, "There is a fine old saying, which every body here is of course familiar with, 'Keep your breath to cool your porridge, and I shall keep mine to swell my song.'"

Darcy listened to Elizabeth's performance. Technically, she needed practice, but her easy playing was enjoyable to listen to. When she had finished, he sighed and watched as Mary sat on the piano seat.

Darcy leaned on the mantle, dimly aware that Sir William Lucas was addressing the Bingley sisters. He looked towards Miss Bennet. Her eyes were rather captivating, he acknowledged.

His attention was diverted by Lydia crying out to her sister Mary to play a dance. "Mary! Mary, play something jolly, we want to dance!"

"But there's still two movements! Mama. Mama! Tell them it isn't fair!" protested Mary.

How rude of the girl, interrupting her sister, thought Darcy with disgust.

"Oh, play a jig, Mary. No one wants your concertos here," Mrs. Bennet said. She had been gossiping with some of the older ladies, no doubt about her hopes for Miss Jane and Bingley.

Sir William said something to the girl and she reluctantly agreed to play a dance, though it gave her little pleasure.

Lydia didn't seem to care, but ran to the dance floor with her sister Kitty and two Lucas children. Darcy stood near them in silent indignation at such a mode of passing the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation.

Darcy looked towards Elizabeth. She was speaking to Miss Lucas. From their continuous looks towards Bingley and Jane in the corner, he deduced whom they were speaking of.

Suddenly, they looked towards him. Miss Lucas looked meaningfully at him, then spoke to Miss Bennet. He hoped they had not noticed his observations of the lady.

He found himself being addressed by the host of the party, Sir William Lucas.

"What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy! There is nothing like dancing after all. I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished societies."

Darcy groaned inwardly. He did not enjoy dancing.

"Certainly, Sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every savage can dance," he coldly replied, hoping the man would take the hint and leave him in peace.

Sir William only smiled. "Your friend performs delightfully;" he continued after a pause, on seeing Bingley join the group; "and I doubt not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Mr. Darcy."

The man must be rather thick-skinned, thought Darcy. Still what can one expect from such a society?

"You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, Sir."

Go away, thought Darcy.

"Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight. Do you often dance at St. James's?"

Darcy had noticed that Sir William seemed to be obsessed by St. James, and never wasted an opportunity to speak of it.

"Never, sir."

He watched the group dancing, thinking how tiring and wasteful the hobby was.

"Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?" said Sir William.

"It is a compliment which I never pay to any place, if I can avoid it."

"You have a house in town, I conclude?"

Oh, please just be quiet and go away.

Darcy bowed.

"I had once some thoughts of fixing in town myself, for I am fond of superior society; but I did not feel quite certain that the air of London would agree with Lady Lucas."

Darcy had to agree with him. Not that the air of London was disagreeable, but that a country estate was more pleasing than London.

By now, he was tired of listening to the man, and decided not to answer. Then he saw Miss Elizabeth walking in the direction of the dancers, and Sir William walking after her and saying, "My dear Miss Eliza, why are not you dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you."

Mr. Darcy, who, though extremely surprised, was not unwilling to receive it. He thought the lady would accept him but he was even more intrigued by her when she gracefully declined. He tried to shake her resolve, as did Sir William, but she was determined. She left them with an arch look towards Darcy.

Thankfully Sir William also left, and Darcy was about to settle to watch Miss Bennet, but Miss Bingley sidled up to him and said, "I can guess the subject of your reverie."

Angry at being interrupted in his observations, he said, "I should imagine not."

"You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner in such society; and indeed I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity and yet the noise; the nothingness and yet the self-importance of all these people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!"

No doubt you would, he thought to himself.

"Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow."

Normally, he would not let his thoughts known to anyone, least of all Miss Bingley, but he was so content to watch a certain lady, he let his guard drop.

"And may one dare ask, whose are the eyes which have inspired these thoughts?"

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

Too late, he realised his mistake in letting that name drop from his lips.

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet!" repeated Miss Bingley. "I am all astonishment. How long has she been such a favourite? and pray when am I to wish you joy?"

Darcy tried to correct his mistake, unsuccessfully.

"That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy." And anyway, continued his thoughts, who says I am thinking about proposing to the girl? I merely admire a pretty woman, I would never disgrace myself with an alliance with such a person!

"Nay, if you are serious about it, I shall consider the matter is absolutely settled. You will have a charming mother-in-law, indeed; and, of course, she will always be at Pemberley with you."

He rolled his eyes. Darcy was definitely NOT thinking of matrimony to anyone, not Miss Bingley or Miss Bennet, so her words had little effect.

Miss Bingley soon left. Darcy thought back and believed that maybe the conversation had had some advantages. If Miss Bingley believed that he was falling in love with Miss Elizabeth, he wouldn't detach her from that notion.

He would pretend to keep admiring Elizabeth, and then Miss Bingley would leave him alone.

Of course he wouldn't really fall in love with Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Of course not!

He wondered why he was so determined on that last thought. Almost, as if wanted to deny something...


	5. Chapter 5

In the days following the Lucas Lodge party, Darcy often found his thoughts wandering back to the bright-eyed lady. He did not know the reason for his preoccupation with Miss Elizabeth, and when he tried to think of one, he couldn't.

* * *

Bingley had accepted an invitation to dine with the officers of the regiment that evening, but as the gentlemen were about to leave the house, the sky turned dark and they were obliged to take the carriage instead of riding.

It rained quite heavily and Darcy was glad to be inside the carriage, especially when he saw some poor souls having to endure the elements; a farmer running with his drenched coat over his head, a gentleman caught without his umbrella, a lady riding on a horse.

* * *

Colonel Forster knew Darcy's cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam as a colleague and was able to give him news on his cousin's whereabouts and doings. Apart from that, most of the officers seemed to enjoy talking about the various ladies of the neighbourhood.

By the time the three gentlemen arrived back at Netherfield, it was quite dark. Bingley and Hurst went straight indoors, while Darcy remained in the stable to speak with the groom. While he was there, he saw a horse that did not belong in Bingley's stable, and he wondered who had come to Netherfield.

He went into the drawing to see an surprising sight. Bingley was speaking to his sister quite forcefully, actually berating her. Bingley was usually quite good-humoured and rarely became angry.

"Why on earth did you invite her in such wet weather?" said Bingley angrily.

His sister tried to soothe him.

"The day was quite fine when I sent the invitation. And though she said the carriage was unavailable, I am sure it could have been spared for such a day. Do not worry, I have sent her family a note informing them that Jane will stay the night, and be home in the morning."

"Miss Jane Bennet is here?" asked Darcy.

"Yes," said Miss Bingley. "I invited her here for dinner, but she came on horseback and has caught a slight cold. She has rooms for tonight, and I am sure she will be quite well tomorrow."

"But what if she isn't?" said Bingley.

"Then she shall remain here until she is so," Mrs. Hurst replied. "It is our fault; we should never have invited her today. But Jane should never have accepted it with such bad weather."

Miss Bingley sniffed disdainfully. "The mother would have made her come through hail and storm."

* * *

Miss Bennet was given rooms not far from Darcy's and her coughing kept him from sleep. At first, he was merely annoyed, then as the night progressed and the coughing more severe, he began to worry. He listened, wondering if he should awake everyone else up and summon a doctor.

Finally, he put on a robe and quietly walked to Miss Bennet's room. He opened the door, and looked to see if she was in need of assistance. He waited for some time, until he had assured himself that the invalid was sleeping peacefully then went back to his own bed.

* * *

The next morning Miss Bennet had not gotten any better and was too ill to get out of bed. Another note was sent, from Jane to Elizabeth saying that she would be remaining at Netherfield for a period of time.

Having eaten his breakfast early, Darcy decided to walk in the grounds. He walked in the direction of the trees, and was very surprised when he came across Miss Elizabeth Bennet, her hair untidy, bonnet in hand, her shoes and hem of her dress covered in mud. Apart from this, he noticed that her eyes were very bright.

She has walked three miles through he mud on foot and alone?!

"Miss Bennet!" said Darcy in surprise and a little pleasure.

"Mr. Darcy," said Miss Elizabeth, bobbing a curtsey. "I have come to inquire after my sister."

"On foot?" asked he incredulously after a slight pause.

"As you see here," she said.

She was not embarrassed at her appearance, Darcy noted, nor did she seem to care what others thought. Seeing Jane was all that she cared about, and Darcy could not help but admire her affection for her sister.

"Would you be so kind as to take me to her?" continued Miss Elizabeth, when Darcy made no reply.

"Of course."

He paused to let her past, then escorted her back to the house.

He was quite happy to see her again.

* * *

Her appearance in the breakfast parlour was a great surprise to all. That she should have walked three miles so early in the day, in such dirty weather, and by herself, was almost incredible to Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley. They received their unexpected visitor very politely but Darcy knew the two were privately holding Elizabeth in contempt for her walk. He himself was divided between admiration of the brilliancy which exercise had given to her complexion, and doubt as to the occasion's justifying her coming so far alone.

Bingley himself was very pleased to see her and immediately asked a servant to see her to Jane's room.

When she left, the analysis of Elizabeth began, mostly by Bingley's two sisters.

"She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent walker. I shall never forget her appearance. She really looked almost wild."

Darcy took a cup of tea and went to the window.

At least she does something more . . . physical than painting.

"She did indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep my countenance. Very nonsensical to come at all! Why must she be scampering about the countryside because her sister has a cold? Her hair, so untidy, so blowsy!"

Perhaps, but I thought it became her very well.

"Yes, and her petticoat; I hope you saw her petticoat brother, six inches deep in mud I am absolutely certain; and the gown which had been let down to hide it not doing its office."

Yes, I agree that rather ruined her appearance.

Darcy agreed that it was improper for Elizabeth to walk all this way, but he did not like the way the two ladies were criticising her either.

"Your picture may be very exact, Louisa," said Bingley, "but this was all lost upon me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably well, when she came into the room. Her dirty petticoat quite escaped my notice."

Of course it did, thought Darcy.

"You observed it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure," said Miss Bingley, "and I am inclined to think you would not wish to see your sister make such a exhibition."

"Certainly not."

"To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is, above her ankles in dirt, and alone, quite alone, what could she mean by it?"

Darcy rolled his eyes as Miss Bingley began to exaggerate the whole event out of proportion.

"It seems to me to show an abominable sort of, conceited independence, a most country town indifference to decorum."

"It shows an affection for her sister that is very pleasing," said Bingley.

"I am afraid, Mr. Darcy, that this escapade may have affected your admiration for her fine eyes?" said Miss Bingley in a half-whisper.

Darcy was determined the lady would not get a reaction out of him and said, "Not at all. They were brightened by the exercise." He sipped his tea, and smiled behind it at Miss Bingley's look.

"I have an excessive regard for Jane Bennet, she is really a very sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart that she were well settled. But with such a father and such low connections, I am afraid there is no chance of it," said Mrs. Hurst.

"I think I have heard you say, that their uncle is an attorney in Meryton," replied Miss Bingley.

"Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside."

"That is capital. Perhaps we should call, when we're next in town." They both laughed.

Being in trade was not fashionable, and Darcy would have nothing to do with such people other than what was required. But he did not like the hypocrisy of the Bingley sisters, who conveniently forgot their own fortune had been got by trade.

"If they had uncles enough to fill all Cheapside," said Bingley, "it would not make them one jot less agreeable."

"But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any consideration in the world," said Darcy, walking away from the window.

Bingley, who was sometimes ruled by his heart rather than his head, was over looking the fact that men of wealth and fashion did not marry women like the Bennet sisters. Yes, the two eldest were agreeable and pretty, but Darcy, who liked to think his head ruled his heart, could see that the inferiority of their connections would make it extremely difficult, if not impossible, for them to marry men like himself and Bingley.

The whole company turned as Elizabeth came into the room. Bingley stood up and inquired after her sister, to which she replied that she was still unwell. "Let me send for Mr. Jones," said Bingley, "And you must stay until your sister is recovered."

Darcy started at this invitation.

"I would not wish to inconvenience you." Part of him thought he should be annoyed because of this second unexpected intrusion. He thought about how the others were feeling about Miss Elizabeth staying; it would please and help her sister, Bingley is no doubt happy, his sisters look rather worried.

"I should not hear of anything else," insisted Bingley, "I'll send to Longbourn for your clothes directly."

Darcy knew that Miss Bingley and her sister did not like Miss Elizabeth Bennet and he thought it might be better for her not to stay, as staying would expose her to the abuse of the two ladies.

"You are very kind, sir." She smiled.

But then again, Miss Elizabeth's company would be very agreeable to him.


	6. Chapter 6

The gentlemen went shooting and were pleased to find that the game at Netherfield was abundant. They returned at dusk with their proofs of marksmanship, most kills being by Bingley who enjoyed the sport. Hurst had taken a flask of drink with him and gradually became intoxicated enough to shoot a tree.

Bingley and Hurst joined Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst in a game of loo, but as Darcy disliked cards and Miss Elizabeth had not yet left her sister's side, he decided to go to the billiard room. He removed his coat and began to play.

After some time, he became aware that someone had entered the room.

Darcy looked from his position to see Miss Elizabeth looking at him.

He wanted to say something, but couldn't think of anything. So he gave her a curt bow.

The lady looked at him for a moment then quickly turned and left.

He stared at where she had stood, silently angry that he had not found anything to say to her.

He vented his anger on the red ball, which fell into the pocket.

* * *

When the board was clear, Darcy put away his cue and went to the drawing-room. As soon as he entered, Miss Bingley asked him for his help. Hurst slammed down a card and prevented him from saying any more. He walked to where Miss Elizabeth was sitting, reading a book.

This time, he inquired after her sister. She replied that she was feeling a little better, then returned to her book.

"Do you prefer reading to cards?" asked Hurst, looking up from the game, "that is rather singular."

"Miss Eliza Bennet," said Miss Bingley, "despises cards. She is a great reader and has no pleasure in anything else."

I am sure she takes no pleasure in the misfortunes of others, unlike yourself, thought Darcy as he sat down at the writing table.

"I deserve neither such praise, nor such censure," cried Miss Elizabeth; "I am not a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things."

"In nursing your sister I hope you have pleasure," said Bingley, "and I hope it will soon be increased by seeing her quite well."

Darcy was surprised at the lady's defense of herself. There were few women who could hold their own in a conversation with Miss Bingley without becoming angered or spiteful, and he admired Miss Elizabeth's ability to do so. He began to write.

Dear Georgiana, I hope this letter finds you well, and I hope you are now more like yourself; after the incident at Ramsgate you were so withdrawn and melancholy. I am quite comfortable here at Netherfield, though I admit I do miss our home. The local company . . .

"And what do you do so secretly, sir?" interrupted Miss Bingley.

"It is no secret. I am writing to my sister," he replied indifferently.

. . . is bearable, though if I hear Sir Lucas mention St. James again, I might do something harmful to him . . .

"Oh, dear Georgiana! Oh, how I long to see her? Has she grown much since the spring? Is she as tall as me?" asked Miss Bingley.

. . . Miss Bingley continues her attentions to me, though I would think that I have been obvious in my indifference to her . . .

"She is now Miss Elizabeth Bennet's height, or a little taller," replied Darcy, hoping that she would hold her tongue.

"And so accomplished," continued Miss Bingley.

"It is amazing to me," Bingley said, "how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are."

"All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?" exclaimed his sister.

. . . There are two young ladies, sisters in fact, who are interesting. The elder, Miss Jane Bennet is very beautiful and it would seem that Bingley has taken a notice to her . . .

"Yes, all of them, I think. They sing, they draw, they dance, speak French and German, cover screens and I know not what," replied Bingley.

Darcy shook his head at his friend's simple idea of an accomplished woman. Any woman could attain Bingley's notion of accomplished, and no doubt the average man would be satisfied with that. But Darcy was not average and therefore did not have the average view of an accomplished lady.

"Your list of the common extent of accomplishments," Darcy said, "has too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it for no other reason than for netting a purse or covering a screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished."

And Georgiana is the most accomplished of them all.

"Nor I, I am sure," agreed Miss Bingley.

. . . her sister, Miss Elizabeth is rather pretty and is a most interesting and witty conversationalist. She can hold her own against Miss Bingley - which, you must admit, is quite an accomplishment . . .

"Then you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman," Elizabeth said to him, setting down her book.

He wondered if she was teasing him.

"Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it," he replied, deciding she was not and giving her a direct answer.

"Certainly!" cried Miss Bingley "No one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved."

It seemed that he and Miss Bingley did agree on one thing after all.

But Miss Bingley had left something out of her list that she did not have and Miss Elizabeth did.

"And to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading," said Darcy.

As Miss Elizabeth was sitting there with a book and Miss Bingley with cards, the comment's meaning must be obvious.

. . . They are both staying at Netherfield at the moment; Miss Jane has a bad cold and Miss Elizabeth is caring for her. They seem to be very close . . .

"I am not longer surprised at you knowing only six accomplished women," Miss Elizabeth said. "I rather wonder at your knowing any." She returned to her book.

Darcy was so surprised at her answer, he put down his pen, sat back and looked at Miss Elizabeth.

"You are severe upon your sex, Miss Bennet!" objected Miss Bingley.

"I speak as I find," she said.

"Then perhaps you have not had the advantage of moving about in such social circles as we have. I may assure you, however, that there are many such young ladies who can be considered accomplished."

But before, you had said that you too, could only think of six truly accomplished young women, and now you are saying there are many? Darcy smiled at Miss Bingley's inconsistency.

Hurst called the players back to the game. Miss Elizabeth resumed reading, but Darcy did not continue with his letter.

He kept looking at Miss Elizabeth.

Most women, after being paid a compliment by him would react with blushing and false modesty. But Miss Elizabeth acted as if she had not heard it (which impossible, since she had replied to it), not understood it (which was also not likely, as he knew that she was a sharp young lady), or even more astonishingly, she did not care what he said.

That was the most surprising, but the most likely reason.

If that was true, then Miss Elizabeth was even more intriguing to him than she was before.

She did not flatter him, she hardly spoke to him, she did not accept his compliments. She runs around, she walks three miles by herself, she stands up for herself, is independent in her thinking and she cares not what he or anyone else thought of her.

Darcy looked at her and decided she was more . . . natural compared to the artificial Miss Bingley and other ladies who tried to ensnare him.

A few minutes later, Miss Elizabeth left to see her sister.

As soon as the door was closed on her, Miss Bingley said, "Eliza Bennet is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own; and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds. But, in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art."

Miss Bingley's hypocrisy was all too clear to Darcy, and he was angered by it, and the fact she was insulting Miss Elizabeth caused Darcy to say something that Miss Bingley could hardly misunderstand.

"There is a meanness in all the arts which ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable."

And with that, he left for his bedchamber.

* * *

He stayed up to continue his letter to Georgiana.

. . . Miss Jane Bennet is a sweet girl and similar to Bingley in disposition. I believe she is the rare type who sees goodness in everything and everyone and never has anything spiteful to say about any living person. I find that Miss Elizabeth is intriguing. Ever since I met her, I have used that word 'intriguing' many times, and always to describe her. She is the first woman I have met who doesn't praise me and pretend to share my interests. In the same room with Miss Bingley, the contrast is very obvious. This morning, she walked three miles through the mud and alone to reach here to see her sister. Though I do not think the occasion warranted such action, I must admit the exercise was very good for her. She has very fine eyes and the exertion of the walk made them even brighter than they usually are. But as for the rest of their family, the less said the better. Miss Jane caught a cold because she rode to Netherfield in the rain to dine with Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. Apparently the carriage could not be spared, and so no one would have faulted Miss Bennet for declining the invitation. But her mother, I believe encouraged her to accept it and ride here for the simple reason of seeing Bingley. She is very anxious for a marriage between her daughter and Bingley, but you know how he is with women so she will be disappointed. It would be one of Bingley's greatest mistakes were he to connect himself with such a family. Her father, is an intelligent man who enjoys reading but he also takes pleasure in teasing his wife, which she is too silly to understand. There are three younger sisters. The third is reputed to be the most accomplished girl in the neighbourhood (by country standards). I my self have seen no evidence of that. I have heard her play on the pianoforte and I say that it was passable. I have not heard her sing or witnessed further proof of her 'accomplishments'. The fourth and fifth sister are like their mother, frivolous and empty. They can speak of nothing but officers, do nothing but flirt and chase after officers and I have heard no word of sense from either as of yet. This morning, Miss Elizabeth walked three miles through the mud and alone to reach here to see her sister. Though I admit the exercise was good for her, (she has very fine eyes and the exertion of the walk made them even brighter than they usually are), I do not think the occasion warranted such an action. I shall probably stay here for some time, but I hope to come to London and be with you for Christmas. Give my greetings to Mrs. Annesley, Georgiana. I am counting the days until I can escape from this place and can spend time in your company. Your loving brother, Fitzwilliam Darcy

He sealed the letter and left it on his desk to be posted in the morning. Then he blew out the candle and listened to the gentle murmurs of conversation coming from Miss Jane's room, too quiet to understand, but soothing enough to send him to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning, Darcy took a cup of tea to the window and saw a carriage coming towards the house. A head with a hat on it looked out the window, then disappeared, only to be replaced by two heads with bonnets on them. The identities of the three were soon known when Mrs. Bennet's voice was heard, as well as the giggling of her two youngest daughters.

Darcy went out into the hall where he saw a manservant and Miss Elizabeth leading the trio upstairs to the rooms where Miss Jane was residing.

He went into the drawing room where he found Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. Darcy sat down in the chair. Bingley standing by the window turned as the door opened to reveal his sister.

"And now the mother," she complained, "Are we to be invaded by every Bennet in the country?" She sat down beside her sister who patted her hand comfortingly.

Though the eldest Bennet girls were a pleasure to have, (the younger sister especially), Darcy hoped Mrs. Bennet and her two youngest daughters did not stay for long.

The entrance of Mrs. Bennet and three of her daughters saved the group from replying to Miss Bingley's statement. She swept into the room followed by Miss Elizabeth and Miss Catherine and Lydia. Darcy got up off his chair and stood behind Bingley who moved in front of Mrs. Bennet.

"Mrs. Bennet," Bingley said politely, "I hope you have not found Miss Bennet to be as ill as you may have believed."

"Indeed I have, sir," Mrs. Bennet replied. "She is a great deal too ill to be moved. Mr. Jones says we must not think of moving her. We must trespass a little longer on your kindness."

Darcy thought that Mrs. Bennet had an ulterior motive. Miss Jane was not in any life threatening danger, and he thought that Mrs. Bennet was trying to extend her daughter's stay at Netherfield so that she would spend more time in Mr. Bingley's company.

"Removed! It must not be thought of. My sister, I am sure, will not hear of her removal," said Bingley.

How like you Bingley, thought Darcy. He looked at Miss Bingley. After her brother's remark, she could not gracefully refuse.

"You may depend upon it, madam," she said coldly, "that Miss Bennet shall receive every possible attention while she remains with us."

Darcy could tell Miss Bingley was not pleased. She was probably anxious for Mrs. Bennet to leave and take Miss Elizabeth with her.

Mrs. Bennet was profuse in her acknowledgments.

"I am sure," she added, "if it was not for such good friends I do not know what would become of her, for she is very ill indeed, and suffers a vast deal, though with the greatest patience in the world - which is always the way with her, for she has, without exception, the sweetest temper I ever met with. I often tell my other girls they are nothing to her."

Miss Elizabeth isn't nothing! Darcy thought defensively. He stopped. Did he really just think that?

"You have a sweet room here, Mr. Bingley, and a charming prospect over that gravel walk. I do not know a place in the country that is equal to Netherfield. You will not think of quitting it in a hurry I hope, though you have but a short lease."

Darcy was shocked by the woman's vulgarity. Here she was, already looking upon Netherfield as if it were settled that Bingley and Miss Jane were to be married tomorrow! He was appalled and felt sorry for Miss Jane and Miss Elizabeth for having such a mother.

"Whatever I do is done in a hurry," replied Bingley; "and therefore if I should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here."

"That is exactly what I should have supposed of you," said Elizabeth.

"You begin to comprehend me, do you?" cried he, turning towards her.

"Oh! yes - I understand you perfectly."

"I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to be so easily seen through I am afraid is pitiful."

Yes, it is pitiful that Miss Bingley's actions are so easily seen through and is causing scorn in some quarters . . . though she is too blind to see it.

"That is as it happens. It does not necessarily follow that a deep, intricate character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours."

Darcy wanted to hear more of Miss Elizabeth's ideas on character but her mother stopped the conversation abruptly.

"Lizzy," cried her mother, "remember where you are, and do not run on in the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home."

"I did not know before," continued Bingley immediately, " that you were a studier of character. It must be an amusing study."

"Yes; but intricate characters are the most amusing. They have at least that advantage."

"The country," said Darcy, "can in general supply but few subjects for such a study. In a country neighbourhood you move in a very confined and unvarying society."

For with a limited population and in an area where you know the majority of the inhabitants there is less to study than if you were in town, thought Darcy.

"But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them for ever." Darcy thought about that. He thought about many people he knew. Some he imagined would not change - his Aunt Catherine and cousin Anne he was sure would not change. Wickham he was sure would not change in his dissolute habits. Georgiana he hoped would change. Colonel Fitzwilliam he was sure would remain the jovial young man he was. Darcy was sure that he himself would not change. He was quite happy as he was now. "Yes, indeed," cried Mrs. Bennet, offended by his manner of mentioning a country neighbourhood. "I assure you there is quite as much of that going on in the country as in town."

Every body was surprised; and Darcy, after looking at her for a moment, turned silently away and walked to stare out the window. He knew not where he had picked up that habit, but found it useful when deeply contemplating something, when he wanted to shut himself away from a situation or contact with people, and useful in preventing others from seeing what he was thinking in circumstances such as this when he could not trust himself to speak politely to the blasted Mrs. Bennet.

Mrs. Bennet, who fancied she had gained a complete victory over him, continued her triumph.

"I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country for my part, except the shops and public places. The country is a vast deal pleasanter, is not it, Mr. Bingley?"

"When I am in the country," he replied, "I never wish to leave it; and when I am in town it is pretty much the same. They have each their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either."

"Aye - that is because you have the right disposition. But that gentleman," continued Mrs. Bennet, looking at Darcy, "seemed to think the country was nothing at all."

"Indeed, Mama, you are mistaken," said Miss Elizabeth, blushing for her mother. "You quite mistook Mr. Darcy. He only meant that there were not such a variety of people to be met with in the country as in town, which you must acknowledge to be true."

At least Miss Elizabeth had the propriety to be embarrassed at her mother's behaviour. She looks as if she wishes herself a thousand miles away.

"Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; but as to not meeting with many people in this neighbourhood, I believe there are few neighbourhoods larger. I know we dine with four and twenty families."

Darcy refrained from smiling at the woman, who obviously thought twenty-four families was a lot of people. Behind him, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst were not so tactful. He could hear their muffled laughter clearly.

Miss Elizabeth, for the sake of saying something that might turn her mother's thoughts and change the subject, now asked her if Charlotte Lucas had been at Longbourn since her coming away.

"Yes, she called yesterday with her father. What an agreeable man Sir William is, Mr. Bingley - is not he? so much the man of fashion! so genteel and so easy! He has always something to say to every body. That is my idea of good breeding; and those persons who fancy themselves very important and never open their mouths, quite mistake the matter."

Darcy could not mistake the meaning of this remark and remained at the window lest anyone see anger and embarrassment.

"Did Charlotte dine with you?"

"No, she would go home. I fancy she was wanted about the mince pies. For my part, Mr. Bingley, I always keep servants that can do their own work; my daughters are brought up differently. But every body is to judge for themselves, and the Lucases are very good sort of girls, I assure you. It is a pity they are not handsome! Not that I think Charlotte so very plain - but then she is our particular friend."

If that is what you say about your friends, I would not wish to hear what you say about those you despise, thought Darcy.

"She seems a very pleasant young woman," said Bingley.

"Oh! dear, yes; but you must own she is very plain. Lady Lucas herself has often said so, and envied me Jane's beauty. I do not like to boast of my own child, but to be sure, Jane one does not often see any body better looking. It is what every body says. I do not trust my own partiality."

It was painfully obvious to Darcy that Mrs. Bennet was pushing Jane at Bingley. Her inconsistency with Miss Lucas; first remarking she is not so very plain and then saying she is very plain was not-so-subtle comparisons between her own daughter and Miss Lucas, hoping to convince Bingley that Miss Jane was the best choice.

"When she was only fifteen," rambled on Mrs. Bennet, "there was a gentleman at my brother Gardiner's in town, so much in love with her, that my sister-in-law was sure he would make her an offer before we came away. But however he did not. Perhaps he thought her too young. However, he wrote some verses on her, and very pretty they were."

"And so ended his affection," said Miss Elizabeth impatiently. "There has been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!"

"I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love," said Darcy.

Darcy was surprised - he would have thought a lady like Miss Elizabeth would have agreed with him on this subject.

"Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Every thing nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away."

Darcy turned towards her and was about to disagree when the youngest girl - who had been whispering to her sister throughout the visit - came forward.

"Mr. Bingley, did you not promise to give a ball?" asked the girl, "It would be the most shameful thing in the world if you did not keep your promise."

It seemed that the youngest girls had inherited their mother's lack of good sense and propriety.

Bingley, however, did not notice this. "Yes, I did. And when your sister is recovered enough, you shall name the day of the ball.

Darcy silently bemoaned his friend in encouraging the impoliteness of the youngest Bennet girls. It seemed that Miss Elizabeth was also embarrassed even further when her mother and two sisters began to squeal in delight. Darcy felt extremely sorry for her.

"Now that is what I call generosity. That is what I call gentlemanly behaviour."

Darcy felt like shaking the woman but propriety demanded that he hold his tongue and bear it. He returned to staring out the window.

Thankfully, Mrs. Bennet and her two silly daughters left. The sigh of relief was audible from all parts of the room. They began to disperse to their various activities; Bingley and his sisters for a game of cards, Miss Elizabeth to see her sister and then a walk around the grounds. Darcy decided to take a bath.

* * *

Darcy felt all his cares slipping away with the warm water. He lay back and enjoyed the brief moment of peace. For a minute, he could forget his duties as master of Pemberley, his worries about Georgiana and Bingley, his annoyance at Miss Bingley and pretend that the Bennets never existed.

But as the servant poured more water over his head, he found that the picture of Miss Elizabeth Bennet would not go away. He shook his head to clear the image.

Soon, he got out of the bath. The servant handed him a robe and he tied it then walked to the window. He looked out.

There, on the grass below him, was Miss Elizabeth.

She was having a tug-o-war with one of the dogs. The animal wagged its tail in enjoyment. Elizabeth won the sick and playfully held her prize in the air.

Darcy leaned on the wall, charmed. The way the breeze blew at her hair, how it's chill made her face glow. Her eyes sparkled with the joy of merely being alive.

He would have been content to stay there and watch forever. But gentlemen did not peek at young ladies, no matter how attractive they were. And even worse, what if she happened to glance up and see him?

Reluctantly, he moved away from the window and back to his chamber where he got dressed.

But this time, he wasn't so successful in banishing the picture of Miss Elizabeth.


	8. Chapter 8

In the evening Miss Elizabeth joined their party in the drawing room. The loo table, however, did not appear. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley were at piquet, and Mrs. Hurst was observing their game. Darcy sat down to write again to Georgiana, but as he wrote his greetings, he was dismayed when Miss Bingley took a seat beside him and watched the progress of his letter, and repeatedly called off his attention by messages to his sister.

"How delighted Miss Darcy will be to receive such a letter!"

He made no answer, in a vain hope that she would leave him in peace.

"You write uncommonly fast."

"You are mistaken. I write rather slowly."

He continued writing. Unfortunately, he could not be as intimate with his sister as he would have liked, not with Miss Bingley looking over his shoulder.

"How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of the year! Letters of business too! How odious I should think them!"

"It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of to yours."

If he were not a gentleman, or he did not live in a time when propriety was the rule, he would have behaved in a less than gentlemanly manner towards Miss Bingley. In the meantime, he was forced to put up with her.

"Pray tell your sister that I long to see her."

He looked up to near the beginning of his letter. It was already done.

"I have already told her so once, by your desire."

His grip on the pen tightened in his annoyance.

"I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend it for you. I mend pens remarkably well."

"Thank you - but I always mend my own."

"How can you contrive to write so even?"

He was silent.

"Tell your sister I am delighted to hear of her improvement on the harp, and pray let her know that I am quite in raptures with her beautiful little design for a table, and I think it infinitely superior to Miss Grantley's."

"Will you give me leave to defer your raptures till I write again? - At present I have not room to do them justice."

If you wish to say so much to her, why don't you write to her yourself? he thought savagely. I know that you have memorised our address.

"Oh! it is of no consequence. I shall see her in January. But do you always write such charming long letters to her, Mr. Darcy?"

"They are generally long; but whether always charming, it is not for me to determine."

His temper was not improved in that he could sense Miss Elizabeth watching them and silently laughing.

"It is a rule with me, that a person who can write a long letter, with ease, cannot write ill," said Miss Bingley.

Ill. That is probably the nature of your short missives.

"That will not do for a compliment to Darcy, Caroline," cried her brother, "because he does not write with ease. He studies too much for words of four syllables. Do not you, Darcy?"

Bingley did his best to do as little reading and writing than was absolutely necessary.

"My style of writing is very different from yours."

"Oh!" cried Miss Bingley, "Charles writes in the most careless way imaginable. He leaves out half his words, and blots the rest."

Darcy smiled a little. He knew how hard it was to read one of Bingley's letters.

"My ideas flow so rapidly that I have not time to express them - by which means my letters sometimes convey no ideas at all to my correspondents."

"Your humility, Mr. Bingley," said Miss Elizabeth, "must disarm reproof."

Darcy put down his pen. It seemed to him, that as easy-going as Bingley was, he took pride in his ability to write quickly.

"Nothing is more deceitful," said Darcy, "than the appearance of humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an indirect boast."

"And which of the two do you call my little recent piece of modesty?" asked Bingley.

"The indirect boast; - for you are really proud of your defects in writing, because you consider them as proceeding from a rapidity of thought and carelessness of execution, which if not estimable, you think at least highly interesting." He turned in his chair to face him. "The power of doing any thing with quickness is always much prized by the possessor, and often without any attention to the imperfection of the performance. When you told Mrs. Bennet this morning that if you ever resolved on quitting Netherfield you should be gone in five minutes, you meant it to be a sort of panegyric, of compliment to yourself - and yet what is there so very laudable in a precipitance which must leave very necessary business undone, and can be of no real advantage to yourself or any one else?"

If I acted in such an . . . . irresponsible manner, my father would be rolling in his grave.

"Nay," cried Bingley, "this is too much, to remember at night all the foolish things that were said in the morning. And yet, upon my honour, I believed what I said of myself to be true, and I believe it at this moment. At least, therefore, I did not assume the character of needless precipitance merely to show off before the ladies."

Darcy sighed at Bingley's selectively short memory.

"I dare say you believed it; but I am by no means convinced that you would be gone with such celerity. Your conduct would be quite as dependent on chance as that of any man I know; and if, as you were mounting your horse, a friend were to say, 'Bingley, you had better stay till next week,' you would probably do it, you would probably not go - and, at another word, might stay a month."

"You have only proved by this,'' cried Miss Elizabeth, "that Mr. Bingley did not do justice to his own disposition. You have shown him off now much more than he did himself."

Though Bingley was endeared to Darcy by the easiness and ductility of his temper, deep inside himself Darcy knew that he sometimes took advantage of it. It was what made it so easy for him to order Bingley's life around for his friend. He squashed that voice by telling himself it was for Bingley's own good.

"I am exceedingly gratified," said Bingley, "by your converting what my friend says into a compliment on the sweetness of my temper. But I am afraid you are giving it a turn which that gentleman did by no means intend; for he would certainly think the better of me, if under such a circumstance I were to give a flat denial, and ride off as fast as I could."

"Would Mr. Darcy then consider the rashness of your original intention as atoned for by your obstinacy in adhering to it?"

Miss Bingley, having nothing to add to his letter or the conversation moved away to sit beside her sister.

"Upon my word I cannot exactly explain the matter; Darcy must speak for himself."

Darcy was about to continue his letter when he heard Bingley's answer to Miss Elizabeth, which required a response.

"You expect me to account for opinions which you choose to call mine, but which I have never acknowledged. Allowing the case, however, to stand according to your representation, you must remember, Miss Bennet, that the friend who is supposed to desire his return to the house, and the delay of his plan, has merely desired it, asked it without offering one argument in favour of its propriety."

"To yield readily - easily - to the persuasion of a friend is no merit with you."

"To yield without conviction is no compliment to the understanding of either."

He ignored that voice inside him.

"You appear to me, Mr. Darcy, to allow nothing for the influence of friendship and affection. A regard for the requester would often make one readily yield to a request without waiting for arguments to reason one into it. I am not particularly speaking of such a case as you have supposed about Mr. Bingley. We may as well wait, perhaps, till the circumstance occurs, before we discuss the discretion of his behaviour thereupon. But in general and ordinary cases between friend and friend, where one of them is desired by the other to change a resolution of no very great moment, should you think ill of that person for complying with the desire, without waiting to be argued into it?"

Darcy found himself enjoying this polite argument with Miss Elizabeth. Very few people dared to seriously argue with him, and it was pleasant to find someone who was willing to do so.

"Will it not be advisable, before we proceed on this subject, to arrange with rather more precision the degree of importance which is to appertain to this request, as well as the degree of intimacy subsisting between the parties?"

"By all means," cried Bingley; "Let us hear all the particulars, not forgetting their comparative height and size; for that will have more weight in the argument, Miss Bennet, than you may be aware of. I assure you that if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow, in comparison with myself, I should not pay him half so much deference. I declare I do not know a more awful object than Darcy, on particular occasions, and in particular places; at his own house especially, and of a Sunday evening when he has nothing to do."

Darcy was rather offended by Bingley's remark, but politely smiled.

Miss Bingley warmly resented the indignity he had received, in an expostulation with her brother for talking such nonsense.

"I see your design, Bingley," said Darcy. "You dislike an argument, and want to silence this."

"Perhaps I do. Arguments are too much like disputes. If you and Miss Bennet will defer yours till I am out of the room, I shall be very thankful; and then you may say whatever you like of me."

"What you ask," said Miss Elizabeth, "is no sacrifice on my side; and Mr. Darcy had much better finish his letter."

Darcy took her advice, and did finish his letter.

When that business was over, he applied to Miss Bingley and Miss Elizabeth for the indulgence of some music. Miss Bingley moved with alacrity to the piano-forte, and after a polite request that Miss Elizabeth would lead the way, which the other as politely and more earnestly negatived, she seated herself.

Miss Elizabeth sat down near the instrument and tapped her foot slightly to the beat of the song. Darcy watched her as she turned over some music, and the image of her playing in the garden that evening came to mind. He smiled, but the smile disappeared when he noticed that she was looking back at him.

After playing some Italian songs, Miss Bingley varied the charm by a lively Scotch air. He remembered the time at the Lucas Lodge party when she had declined to dance with him, and soon afterwards Darcy, drawing near Elizabeth, said to her, "Do not you feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an opportunity of dancing a reel?"

She smiled, but made no answer. He repeated the question, with some surprise at her silence.

"Oh!" said she, "I heard you before; but I could not immediately determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say 'Yes', that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always delight in overthrowing those kind of schemes, and cheating a person of their premeditated contempt. I have therefore made up my mind to tell you that I do not want to dance a reel at all - and now despise me if you dare."

"Indeed I do not dare."

He was, again, surprised at her answer. To decline a man such as he, not once, but twice, was difficult to comprehend. But there was a mixture of sweetness and archness in her manner which made it difficult for her to affront anybody; and Darcy had never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. He really believed, that were it not for the inferiority of her connections, he should be in some danger.

Miss Bingley saw, or suspected, enough to be jealous; and her great anxiety for the recovery of her dear friend Jane received some assistance from her desire of getting rid of Elizabeth.

"Miss Eliza, how does your sister do?" she inquired. This question was immediately followed by a short answer from Miss Elizabeth saying that she would see, and the departure of the lady.

Miss Bingley turned back to the rest of the room's occupants with a small, triumphant smile.

"I must observe that I find Miss Eliza is quite impertinent at times, what say you, Mr. Darcy?"

I say that her impertinence is welcome after the hypocrisy and falseness of some, he thought. But it would do no good to say such a thing to Miss Bingley in front of her brother. He made no reply, but excused himself and went to bed.

He slept peacefully, as the last thought he had before slumber was of Miss Elizabeth Bennet.


	9. Chapter 9

The next afternoon, Darcy left the house to take a turn about the grounds. His hopes for privacy were shattered as Miss Bingley attached herself to him and began talking of his supposed marriage to Miss Elizabeth and even going so far as to plan his happiness in such an alliance.

"I hope," said she, as they walked together in the shrubbery, "you will give your mother-in-law a few hints, when this desirable event takes place, as to the advantage of holding her tongue; and if you can compass it, do cure the younger girls of running after the officers."

He let her ramble on. The idea of him marrying Miss Elizabeth was pure fantasy, created by Miss Bingley herself. But it was annoying, that she should have the presumption to organise his married life for him - even if it was fiction.

"And, if I may mention so delicate a subject, endeavour to check that little something, bordering on conceit and impertinence, which your lady possesses."

She is not, 'my' lady, nor do I wish her to be!

"Have you any thing else to propose for my domestic felicity?"

He immediately regretted saying that, for it invited Miss Bingley to continue.

"Oh! yes. Do let the portraits of your uncle and aunt Philips be placed in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them next to your great uncle, the judge. They are in the same profession, you know; only in different lines."

Now, this was getting to be too much! There was no way he would marry a girl with her connections. And imagine that - having the portraits of people in trade in the gallery? That was insupportable even as a suggestion. His pride would never allow that.

"As for your Elizabeth's picture, you must not attempt to have it taken, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes?"

True . . . .

"It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression, but their colour and shape, and the eye-lashes, so remarkably fine, might be copied."

I doubt there is an artist in the world who could paint a likeness of her that displays her spirit and liveliness, he thought.

At that moment they were met from another walk, by Mrs. Hurst and Miss Elizabeth herself.

"I did not know that you intended to walk," said Miss Bingley, in some confusion, lest they had been overheard.

"You used us abominably ill," answered Mrs. Hurst, "in running away without telling us that you were coming out." Then taking the disengaged arm of Mr. Darcy, she left Miss Elizabeth to walk by herself. The path just admitted three.

Darcy felt their rudeness and immediately said, -

"This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go into the avenue."

But Miss Elizabeth laughingly answered,

"No, no; stay where you are. - You are charmingly grouped, and appear to uncommon advantage. The picturesque would be spoilt by admitting a fourth. Good bye."

She then ran gaily off.

He looked over his shoulder, watching her disappear. Another refusal to spend time in his company! Miss Bingley, he knew, would have jumped at such an invitation.

He noticed that the two ladies on his left and right looked meaningfully at each other and then they walked him away in the opposite direction from Miss Elizabeth.

* * *

When the gentlemen entered the drawing room that evening, they were surprised and delighted (Bingley most especially) to find that Miss Jane Bennet had recovered enough to join her sister and her 'friends'. Darcy ignored the comment Miss Bingley addressed to him and politely congratulated Miss Jane on her recovery. He intended to sit beside the fire and read the book Miss Elizabeth had read the first evening she was at Netherfield, but before he did so, he watched with interest and a little degree of alarm as Bingley sat near the invalid and talked to her and nobody else.

As he pulled up a chair, Mr. Hurst invited Miss Bingley to play cards again. But for some reason, she declined, and more surprisingly, picked up the second volume of his book and began to read, probably remembering his remark about his idea of an accomplished woman also being an extensive reader. Having no one to play with, Hurst stretched out on the sofa and went to sleep.

To his increasing annoyance, Miss Bingley's attention was quite as much engaged in watching Mr. Darcy's progress through his book, as in reading her own; and she was perpetually either making some inquiry, or looking at his page. She could not win him, however, to any conversation; he merely answered her question, and read on. At length, quite exhausted by the attempt to be amused with her own book, she threw it onto the mantle, gave a great yawn and said, "How pleasant it is to spend an evening in this way! I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of any thing than of a book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library."

In the cover of his book, Darcy rolled his eyes at her comment. Obviously she was thinking about his library at Pemberley, which she had rarely set foot in, except when he was occupying it.

No one made any reply. She then yawned again and cast her eyes round the room in quest of some amusement; when, hearing her brother mentioning a ball to Miss Bennet, she turned suddenly towards him and said,

"By the bye, Charles, are you really serious in meditating a dance at Netherfield? I would advise you, before you determine on it, to consult the wishes of the present party; I am much mistaken if there are not some among us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a pleasure."

Her attempt to gain his good opinion, by expressing what she imagined to be his views on the upcoming ball, was not successful.

"If you mean Darcy," cried her brother, "he may go to bed, if he chooses, before it begins - but as for the ball, it is quite a settled thing; and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough I shall send round my cards."

"I should like balls infinitely better," she replied, "if they were carried on in a different manner; but there is something insufferably tedious in the usual process of such a meeting. It would surely be much more rational if conversation instead of dancing made the order of the day."

Oh? And I thought you enjoyed dancing, as it is a certain step towards falling in love.

"Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare say, but it would not be near so much like a ball."

Bingley was obviously eager to resume his conversation with Miss Jane Bennet.

Miss Bingley made no answer; and soon afterwards got up and walked about the room. She walked towards and away from him; she walked past her sister who patted her hand. Her figure was elegant, and she walked well; - but Darcy, at whom it was all aimed, was still inflexibly studious.

Then she walked to the table where Miss Elizabeth sat. To his curiosity, she said to her, "Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a turn about the room. - I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude."

Miss Elizabeth agreed to it immediately. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Miss Bingley link arms with Miss Elizabeth and walk around the room.

Darcy raised his head to get a better look. He unconsciously closed his book, and sat back to watch the two, or, more specifically, Miss Elizabeth in their indoor stroll. It seemed to him, had she been outdoors, Miss Elizabeth would break out into a run. He smiled at the thought - Miss Bingley would be left behind and Miss Elizabeth would continue alone. The picture would be more pleasing to look at with Miss Bingley out of it. Then maybe he could take her place beside Miss Elizabeth . . .

"Would you join us, Mr. Darcy?" asked Miss Bingley. The question was probably to prove that her voice was working, for she had an alarmed look on her face.

"I thank you, but no. I can imagine only two reasons why the two of you would be walking about the room, and I would interfere with both"

"What could he mean?" asked Miss Bingley to her companion. "Miss Eliza, can you understand him?"

"Not at all," was her answer; "but depend upon it, he means to be severe on us, and our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask nothing about it."

"Nonsense. We insist on knowing your meaning, sir!"

Miss Bingley was incapable of disappointing him in anything.

"I have not the smallest objection to explaining them," said he, "You either choose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other's confidence, and have secret affairs to discuss," which I sincerely doubt, he thought, "or because you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking; if the first, I should be completely in your way; and if the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire."

"Oh! shocking!" cried Miss Bingley. "I never heard any thing so abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech?"

"Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination," said Miss Elizabeth. "We can all plague and punish one another. Tease him - laugh at him. Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done." Of course, only a lady of her impertinence would think of that.

"But upon my honour I do not. I do assure you that my intimacy has not yet taught me that. Tease calmness of temper and presence of mind! No, no - I feel he may defy us there. And as to laughter, we will not expose ourselves, if you please, by attempting to laugh without a subject. Mr. Darcy may hug himself."

Darcy breathed a sigh of relief. One of his prime hates was to be laughed at and/or embarrassed.

"Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at!" cried Miss Elizabeth. "That is an uncommon advantage, and uncommon I hope it will continue, for it would be a great loss to me to have many such acquaintance. I dearly love a laugh."

"Miss Bingley," said he, "has given me credit for more than can be. The wisest and the best of men, nay, the wisest and best of their actions, may be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a joke."

"Certainly," replied Elizabeth, "there are such people, but I hope I am not one of them. I hope I never ridicule what is wise or good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are precisely what you are without."

"Perhaps that is not possible for any one. But it has been the study of my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule.''

"Such as vanity and pride."

Her answer seemed to accuse him of being proud, which, he thought, was not true, and he tried to defend himself and show her the difference between vanity and pride.

"Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride, where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will be always under good regulation."

Miss Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile.

"Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I presume," said Miss Bingley; "and pray what is the result?"

"I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect. He owns it himself without disguise."

Wait, that is not true!

For an instant, he hated her. Hated her for being cleverer than he was in this conversation, hated her because he found her attractive and to top it all, he had the Bingleys as an audience.

"No," said Darcy, "I have made no such pretension."

Darcy then proceeded to do something he usually would not do - admit to and list all of his faults that he could think of. "I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. It is I believe too little yielding - certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of others so soon as I ought, nor their offences against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost is lost for ever."

"That, is a failing indeed!" said Miss Elizabeth playfully. "Implacable resentment is a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. - I really cannot laugh at it; you are safe from me."

He would not let her get away so easily - not after letting his guard down in front of Miss Bingley and her relations. Besides, he was enjoying his conversation with this attractive and witty young lady.

"There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil, a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome."

"And your defect is a propensity to hate every body."

"And yours," he replied, favouring her with one of his rare smile, "is willfully to misunderstand them."

"Do let us have a little music," cried Miss Bingley, tired of a conversation in which she had no share. "Louisa, you will not mind my waking Mr. Hurst."

Her sister made not the smallest objection, and the piano-forte was opened, and Darcy, after a few moments recollection, was not sorry for it. His attraction for her was becoming all too obvious. He began to feel the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention.

But it was more than that. In their conversation, he felt as if she controlled it, not he. She had skillfully manipulated the conversation so that his weaknesses were revealed and she had the opportunity to laugh and joke at his expense. She was remarkably clever, and that was what he most liked and admired about her.


	10. Chapter 10

On Saturday morning, Miss Elizabeth sent a message to Longbourn asking for the carriage to return home. Darcy wasn't too surprised when their mother wrote back saying that the carriage could not be spared before Tuesday. But in the end as they were very eager to leave, Bingley reluctantly agreed to lend them the carriage on Sunday.

To Mr. Darcy it was welcome intelligence - Elizabeth had been at Netherfield long enough. She attracted him more than he liked - and Miss Bingley was uncivil to her, and more teasing than usual to himself. He wisely resolved to be particularly careful that no sign of admiration should now escape him, nothing that could elevate her with the hope of influencing his felicity; sensible that if such an idea had been suggested, his behaviour during the last day must have material weight in confirming or crushing it. Steady to his purpose, he scarcely spoke ten words to her through the whole of Saturday, and though they were at one time left by themselves for half an hour, he adhered most conscientiously to his book, and would not even look at her, however sorely he was tempted to.

Bingley seemed as if he would miss their company, and went so far as to bid them adieu standing outside in the cold morning while the rest remained indoors at breakfast.

Darcy stood at the window and watched as Bingley leaned into the carriage, then stepped back as the carriage drove away.

"How pleasant it is to have one's house to one's self again!" sighed Miss Bingley, sitting at the table.

"But I fear Mr. Darcy is missing Miss Eliza Bennet's pert opinions and 'fine eyes'," she added.

"Quite the contrary I assure you," replied Darcy.

But he still didn't turn away from his position, watching the carriage carrying Miss Eliza Bennet away.

* * *

True to his word, Bingley began to make arrangements for the long-awaited Netherfield ball. An eight-piece orchestra was hired from London, orders to the florists were sent.

During this time, Darcy could tell that his friend was missing Miss Jane Bennet. He often referred to her in conversation and often expressed a wish of going to Longbourn to see her. This was prevented by his sisters, and sometimes by Darcy.

Finally one day, Bingley was firmly resolved on seeing the Miss Bennets. Darcy was invited to join him and he accepted. A morning ride would be refreshing.

Maybe he would even see Miss Elizabeth.

* * *

As they rode through Meryton, they were surprised to see all five Miss Bennets in the company of a man who would was be a clergyman by his clothing, talking with an officer and another man.

When they came within sight of the group, Darcy saw one of the sisters nudge Miss Jane and looked pointedly at Bingley. The man in question dismounted, led his horse over to the group and greeted them. Darcy remained on his horse.

He observed Miss Elizabeth and was beginning to determine not to fix his eyes on Elizabeth, when they were suddenly arrested by the sight of the stranger.

Mr. Wickham had not changed much in the past year. He was a little thinner, perhaps, but that was all. His eyes though - now Darcy could see a predatory gleam in them, and he wondered how he had been able to miss it before.

Shock and anger were his first feelings. The sounds of conversation and general noise were blocked out. The images of everyone - even Miss Elizabeth - disappeared. Only Wickham remained.

Seeing him, Wickham looked up. He mockingly touched his hat, though his face was white with fear. Darcy did not deign to return his salutation, but rode off to get as far away from his presence as possible.

He dimly heard Bingley riding after him, calling out.

"DARCY! What on earth - ? What's wrong with you?"

He ignored his friend. Once away from the town, he rode as fast as he could back to Netherfield.

* * *

In a black mood, he flung the reins to the groom, then stormed into the house.

How dare he show his face here? he thought angrily.

He strode into the library and collapsed in the nearest chair.

Damn the man! He seems to follow me everywhere!

Seeing Wickham again had brought up all the memories Darcy had most wanted to forget. The incident last summer - coming to Ramsgate with hopes of peace with Georgiana, only to find Wickham touching her arm, Georgiana crying, calling to Mrs. Young if what Darcy said about Wickham being after her fortune was true, Wickham laughing at Georgiana's tears, that interview in his study, Georgiana blaming herself and weeping on his shoulder . . . .

Bingley's worried voice roused him from his trance.

"Darcy, whatever is the matter?"

He did not reply for some minutes.

"That man . . . the one who was with the Miss Bennets . . ."

"Who? Mr. Denny? Their cousin?"

"No, the other . . . "

He paused, unsure just how much he could tell his friend.

"Do I know him? I think I have seen his face."

"His name is Mr. George Wickham. He is the son of my father's steward."

"The picture in that room . . . What has he done to you?"

"I will not give you the explicit details, Bingley . . . let me just say despite my kindnesses to him in the past, he has treated me in a most infamous manner. His sudden appearance this morning was a terrible shock - I have heard nothing of him until today which was most agreeable. Not even his name was spoken in my presence."

Bingley looked as if he wanted to hear more, but Darcy said, "Please, would you see that I am not disturbed for some time, old friend?"

"Of course."

He quietly closed the door and left Darcy to his painful memories.

* * *

Though he took his dinner alone, Darcy did join the rest of the party in the drawing room. It seemed that Bingley had warned his sister, for Miss Bingley did nothing more than inquire after his health. Bingley himself did his best to distract Darcy.

"The cousin of the Bennet family is staying with them. His name is William Collins and he is the man who will inherit Longbourn after the death of Mr. Bennet," His smile faded. "Oh, this means I shall have to extend the invitation to him for the ball." Another realisation struck him. "Oh . . . "

"What is wrong?" asked Darcy.

"Mr. Wickham is to join the officers of the militia, and I have invited every officer to the ball."

Darcy closed his eyes. To see Wickham again, at a ball . . . .

"You cannot very well avoid including him in the invitation . . . " he murmured.

"Perhaps he will have the decency not to come," said Miss Bingley.

Darcy wondered how much Bingley had told his sister. It did not matter - all they knew was that he detested the man for a reason he would not divulge, they knew not how it involved Georgiana.

"I sincerely hope so."

* * *

Darcy was unable to sleep that night. His mind kept replaying the time at Ramsgate.

 _On the cliff . . ._

 _"I won't do it, I won't leave you," said Georgiana._

 _"Georgiana . . . . you must know the truth. Wickham does not love you. He wants only your fortune. . . . "_

 _"Is this true, Mrs. Young?" cried Georgiana._

 _"Yes . . . "_

 _Georgiana turned to Wickham, who was looking at her, laughing softly and shaking his head._

 _"Georgie, it was so easy to convince you."_

 _In his study . . ._

 _"How could you do this? After all my father did for you, after all I have done for you, you take advantage and try to seduce my sister?"_

 _"I am disgraceful!" wept Georgiana._

 _Nothing he said could comfort her . . . ._

He couldn't sleep - all he could think of was Georgiana, Wickham, Georgiana, Wickham, Wickham in the street near Miss Elizabeth . . . .

Elizabeth . . .

He sat bolt upright.

Wickham and Elizabeth . . . .

Oh no.


	11. Chapter 11

Darcy rarely left the house between his encounter with Wickham and the Netherfield Ball. He did not wish to go to Meryton in case he should come across _him_ again, nor did he want to go with Bingley and his sisters to Longbourn to invite the Bennets to the ball, for he did not know what Wickham had told Elizabeth or how much she believed his lies.

* * *

No hint of Wickham's plans had reached any of the Netherfield party. Darcy was dressed in black for the ball, but was still debating whether he would attend. He decided that if Wickham did come, he would remain upstairs, but if Wickham did not, then he would join in.

He stood in the room above the entrance and watched as guests arrived. He saw many carriages, gentlemen and ladies, but the officers he saw no sign.

Finally the red-coats arrived, laughing and joking amongst themselves. In twos and threes they entered Netherfield house and Darcy scanned each face quickly.

He did not find Wickham.

Darcy thankfully turned away from the window, but then turned back as another carriage pulled up.

Mr. Bennet stepped out of the carriage, followed by his entire family. He looked closer, searching for one face in particular.

He found Miss Elizabeth just as she looked up towards him.

Darcy averted his gaze. When he looked back, she had disappeared.

Well, maybe he would join in.

He left the room and went downstairs.

* * *

Darcy stood at the back of the room, near a group of officers. He searched the group, fearful he might have missed Wickham, but his attention was diverted when he saw Bingley enter the room, with Jane on his left and Elizabeth on his right. He watched as one of the officers approached the trio and speak to Elizabeth.

Suddenly the officer and Elizabeth looked directly at him. He knew they were talking about him, and most likely Wickham as well. Perhaps the officer was informing Elizabeth of Wickham's absence.

Darcy moved away from his position. From a safer and less obvious place he looked at Elizabeth.

She was breathtakingly lovely in her simple ivory gown. There were small flowers in her dark hair, and around her neck was a cross. Darcy wondered how he could have ever thought Elizabeth 'just tolerable'.

How long had he been calling her Elizabeth? Not Miss Bennet, not Miss Elizabeth but just Elizabeth. He said her name under his breath, reveling in how pleasant it sounded.

Elizabeth walked over to her friend, Miss Lucas. She smiled and laughed, but it soon disappeared when a man came up to her as the music for the dancing began.

Darcy recognised her cousin, the clergyman. His name escaped him, but he remembered that the man was to choose one of the Miss Bennets for his wife.

He looked as Elizabeth. She did not seem pleased to have her cousin for her dancing partner. Nor could he blame her - the man seemed to have two left feet, and often moved in the wrong direction.

Darcy kept moving around the room in order to keep Elizabeth in his sights. He tried hard not to laugh at her bumbling partner.

When the dance ended (Darcy could not help but notice she looked relieved when she and her partner separated), he thought about asking her to dance. She had declined him twice. Maybe this time she would accept him.

Not only that, it would make Miss Bingley absolutely furious.

But still his shyness prevented him from asking her. In the end, one of the officers claimed her for the next dance.

He contented himself with watching her, and with each minute that passed, he found himself even more determined to dance with her.

Darcy had his chance when Elizabeth left to speak with Miss Lucas.

* * *

For some reason, Elizabeth was quite upset about something. As he drew closer, she spun away and was so caught up in her speech to Miss Lucas, she did not see him and in the end her friend called her attention to him.

He bowed, and then he spoke.

"If you are not otherwise engaged, would you do me the honour of dancing the next with me, Miss Bennet?"

He waited patiently for his answer, hoping it would not be another refusal.

"Why . . . I . . . had not . . . " She paused, as if finding her tongue. "I thank you, yes."

He bowed and walked away, delighted but also wondering what he had let himself in for.

* * *

The music began; a familiar dance in G minor. The dancers took their places; Bingley and Jane among them. Darcy and Elizabeth stood at the end.

Darcy wondered why his neighbour was staring at them with a look of utter amazement. He ignored it, but looked into his partner's face. She did not smile.

The last phrase began; Elizabeth curtsied and Darcy bowed. Their hands reached out as they stepped towards the other.

When his hand grasped hers, Darcy felt something akin to a shock run up his arm. The feeling was quite pleasant, and whenever his hand touched hers, he felt it again.

For the first part of the dance, neither spoke. Darcy was trying to think of something to say when the lady solved his problem for him.

"I believe we must have some conversation, Mr. Darcy," said she. "A very little will suffice."

The dance commanded that he move away from her, preventing him from replying.

"You should say something about the dance, perhaps. I might remark on the number of couples," she continued when they met up again.

"Do you talk by rule then, while you are dancing?" he asked.

"Sometimes it is best. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together, and yet for the advantage of some, conversation ought to be so arranged as that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible."

They separated again.

"Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you imagine that you are gratifying mine?" he asked when they came back together.

"Both," replied Elizabeth archly; "for I have always seen a great similarity in the turn of our minds. We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to posterity with all the eclat of a proverb."

"This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure," said he. Again, they moved away and then back towards each other. "How near it may be to mine, I cannot pretend to say. You think it a faithful portrait undoubtedly."

"I must not decide on my own performance."

They were silent for a while. Darcy though, wanted an answer to the question that had plagued him for days; what was Elizabeth's opinion of Wickham?

"Do you often walk into Meryton?" he began.

"Yes quite often."

That answers nothing.

She added, "When you met us there the other day, we had just been forming a new acquaintance."

The effect was immediate. A deeper shade of hauteur overspread his features, but he said not a word. Inside, he was saddened and angered that she had made an acquaintance of his enemy.

At length Darcy, in an attempt to warn her of Wickham's true character without giving too much away, said in a constrained manner, "Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his making friends - whether he may be equally capable of retaining them, is less certain."

"He has been so unlucky as to lose _your_ friendship," replied Elizabeth with emphasis, "and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all his life."

His heart sank - it seemed that Wickham had told her his usual story, of Darcy depriving him of the living the late Mr. Darcy had promised him. And what was worse, she believed him.

Darcy made no answer, and was desirous of changing the subject. They had reached the point in the dance where they stood still, and in this brief moment, Sir William Lucas spoke to them.

"I have been most highly gratified indeed, my dear Sir. Such very superior dancing is not often seen. It is evident that you belong to the first circles. Allow me to say, however, that your fair partner does not disgrace you, and that I must hope to have this pleasure often repeated, especially when a certain desirable event, my dear Miss Eliza (glancing at her sister and Bingley), shall take place. What congratulations will then flow in! I appeal to Mr. Darcy: but let me not interrupt you, Sir. You will not thank me for detaining you from the bewitching converse of that young lady, whose bright eyes are also upbraiding me."

He took Elizabeth's hand and led her away, with Sir William's exclamations of 'Capital, capital!' echoing behind them.

His body automatically moved with the music, but he chanced a glance towards Bingley and his partner.

Though he saw them for one second, the image was burned into his mind. Bingley was looking at Jane with a look of adoration . . . and love.

Darcy realised that in his preoccupation with Elizabeth, he had missed his friend's growing affection for Jane. This time it seemed that Bingley's love for the girl, before but a passing phase, had become more serious than he had expected.

He brought his mind back to the dance and Elizabeth.

"Sir William's interruption has made me forget what we were talking of."

"I do not think we were speaking at all. Sir William could not have interrupted any two people in the room who had less to say for themselves."

What on earth could she mean?

"We have tried two or three subjects already without success, and what we are to talk of next I cannot imagine," she continued.

Remembering her days at Netherfield, and how she spent most of the time reading, he asked, "What think you of books?" He smiled at her.

"Books - Oh! no. I am sure we never read the same, or not with the same feelings."

"I am sorry you think so; but if that be the case, there can at least be no want of subject. We may compare our different opinions."

"No - I cannot talk of books in a ball-room; my head is always full of something else."

"The present always occupies you in such scenes - does it?" said he, with a look of doubt.

"Yes, always," she replied absently. Darcy noticed her thoughts had wandered far from the subject and her mood was more serious.

"I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Darcy, that you hardly ever forgave, that your resentment once created was unappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its _being created_."

"I am," said he, with a firm voice.

"And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?"

"I hope not."

Am I blinded by prejudice? he questioned himself. No, of course not!

They separated again, but as always, the dance brought them back together.

"It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion, to be secure of judging properly at first," said Elizabeth.

"May I ask to what these questions tend?"

"Merely to the illustration of your character," said she, endeavouring to shake off her gravity. "I am trying to make it out."

"And what is your success?"

She shook her head. "I do not get on at all. I hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly."

The dance drew to a close, and the reverence came with a tierce dipicardi.

The dancers began to disperse; Darcy took Elizabeth's hand and reluctantly lead her away.

"I can readily believe that report may vary greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either," he said.

His comment implied that Wickham's account of him was not to be believed. Darcy hoped that Elizabeth would find out more about him before drawing any conclusions about his character.

"But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another opportunity," she replied.

"I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours," he coldly replied.

Darcy bowed to her. He left her dissatisfied and uncomfortable. He wanted to think ill of her for believing Wickham. But in Darcy's heart there was a tolerable powerful feeling towards her, which soon procured her pardon, and directed all his anger against another.

But for the present, he had to determine what to do about Bingley and Jane.


	12. Chapter 12

Darcy carefully observed Bingley and Jane Bennet for the rest of the evening. He watched as Bingley danced with Jane - again. Only now did he realise that Bingley had danced with no on else. Sometimes, Jane was obliged to dance with another. Darcy looked with concern as his friend watched Jane dance with a pained looked on his face.

Jane on the other hand, did not seem at all concerned.

* * *

Darcy's attention was diverted during the dinner when he saw Miss Bingley speaking to Elizabeth. Elizabeth seemed upset by Miss Bingley's words, and angrily walked to the punch bowl. Her sister joined her and they spoke quietly together. He sipped his wine as he wondered what Miss Bingley had told her.

The gentle murmur of conversation quieted as Bingley stood up from his seat. . . beside Jane.

"Shall we have some music? I have a great desire for a song," said he. Bingley smiled - it seemed he was having a good time. "Caroline, can we persuade you?"

As the last words fell from his mouth, Mary Bennet scooped up some music and rushed to the instrument.

"Miss Mary Bennet," said Bingley without much enthusiasm. "I see you anticipated me."

Darcy watched as Miss Mary adjusted her glasses and begin to play.

She began to play a Handel piece with a pedantic air and a conceited manner. Upon hearing the first notes, Darcy turned away. But then she began to sing, a high note on which her voice wobbled and struggled to hold. He turned back with a look of surprise and amazement. He looked away, trying to determine the problem of Jane and Bingley but it was difficult to concentrate with the terrible noise.

It was obvious to Darcy, knowing his friend as he did, that Bingley preferred Jane Bennet to any other woman in the country. But that was the usual beginning to any of his friend's infatuations. But now, it seemed that Bingley's interest in the woman was actually becoming - nay, had already become - a serious attachment.

He watched the two from his seat. Bingley leaned close to her, talking and laughing without a single glance at any other person. If this were a usual infatuation of Bingley's, by this stage in their acquaintance Bingley's interest in her would be diminishing. It wasn't - in fact it seemed his partiality for Jane Bennet had actually _increased_.

Darcy began to wonder - was his friend serious enough about Jane to actually _propose_ to her?

He was lost in his own thoughts, when he became aware of a man approaching him. He looked up into the face of a heavyset, rather sweaty man in a clergyman's clothing. He recognised the cousin of the Bennets. He vaguely remembered that he was the clergyman to his aunt Lady Catherine, from the information Bingley had told him. Again, the name escaped him.

The man deeply bowed and began to speak.

"Mr. Darcy, I have made a remarkable, I must say, an amazing discovery! I understand that you are the nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh of Rosings Park!"

Darcy's astonishment at being addressed by the man was great. They had not even been introduced and this pompous fellow had the effrontery to address him!

"Well, Mr. Darcy, I am in the happy position of being able to inform you, that her ladyship was in the best of health . . . " (he counted under his breath) " . . . eight days ago!"

He gave Darcy a smile which he did not return.

"I'm glad to hear it," replied Darcy with thinly veiled contempt. He stood up to his full height and towered over the fool who was still half-bowed.

"And what is your name, sir?" he asked with distant civility.

"My name is William Collins, Mr. Darcy, and I am greatly honoured . . . "

The rest of this dialogue was lost on Darcy, for he walked away, past Elizabeth (who was looking as if she wanted to fall through the floor) and to the back of the room where he stood beside Miss Bingley. He put Mr. Collins out of his mind and turned his attention back to Bingley, who was sitting next to Jane engaged in conversation.

Mary Bennet came to the end of her song. She turned the last chord into an arpeggio and looked up awaiting the applause.

The applause was polite, and only polite. Her performance was not one that encouraged an applause of considerable proportions. Darcy though that the girl would walk away when there was very little encouragement to continue her performance, but instead she began another, faster piece.

"My mother bid me bind my hair, with ties of rosy hue . . . "

The music trailed off as Mr. Bennet walked towards her. He bent down as if to say something only to her, but in a voice loud enough for the whole room to hear.

"That will do extremely well, child. You have delighted us long enough. Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit."

Darcy could not help but feel sorry for the girl. To have her own father humiliate her in public! Granted, he was grateful for Mr. Bennet's interference, but surely there could have been a more diplomatic way to stop her.

The trial was not over yet, for Mr. Collins stood up to speak.

"If I," said Mr. Collins, "were so fortunate as to be able to sing, I should have great pleasure, I am sure, in obliging the company with an air; for I consider music as a very innocent diversion, and perfectly compatible with the profession of a clergyman. I do not mean however to assert that we can be justified in devoting too much of our time to music, for there are certainly other things to be attended to. The rector of a parish has much to do. In the first place, he must make such an agreement for tithes as may be beneficial to himself and not offensive to his patron. He must write his own sermons; and the time that remains will not be too much for his parish duties, and the care and improvement of his dwelling, which he cannot be excused from making as comfortable as possible. And I do not think it of light importance that he should have attentive and conciliatory manners towards every body, especially towards those to whom he owes his preferment. I cannot acquit him of that duty; nor could I think well of the man who should omit an occasion of testifying his respect towards any body connected with the family." And with a bow to Mr. Darcy, he concluded his speech.

Darcy did his best not to walk out of the room.

Wanting to prevent any further speeches, Miss Bingley nodded to her sister, who walked past Mr. Collins to the instrument and begin to play.

Over the music, Darcy could clearly hear Mrs. Bennet speaking to Lady Lucas at the top of her voice.

"Mr. Collins is such a sensible, respectable young man . . ." (Darcy tried not to laugh at this) " . . . and he's taken quite a fancy to Lizzy and I don't think he could find a better wife."

Darcy had again tried to turn his attention to Bingley but the last comment of Mrs. Bennet stopped him. Mr. Collins was to marry _Elizabeth?!_ No, that cannot happen, he would not _allow_ it to happen!

"He favoured Jane at first, but Bingley was there before him."

Her loud voice carried over to the couple who tried to ignore her, though both turned red.

"Now there will be a great marriage! and you know, that will throw the girls into the paths of other rich men!"

The woman's vulgarity was absolutely shocking! To speak of a supposed alliance, even though it was only an expectation showed a total want of propriety that lowered his estimation of Mrs. Bennet even further. At first Darcy had believed her to be empty-headed, but now she was rude, ill-mannered and crude.

It seemed that the Bennets (excepting the two eldest sisters) were determined to do their best to be uncivilized and expose themselves to the ridicule of all present. Darcy heard a voice crying, "Lydia! Lydia!" He saw the youngest Bennet girl dancing about with one of the officer's sabres around the table. She was laughing so hard that she collapsed into the nearest chair and struggled with the owner of the sabre for the prize before relinquishing it, gasping to Denny to get her a glass of wine, "Lord, I'm so fagged!"

Before this, Darcy had done his best not to notice the faults of the Bennets, but now it was too obvious to ignore. The situation of the Bennet family were off-putting enough, but the vulgarity of the mother, the want of propriety displayed by the three youngest daughters and the lack of tact shown by the father were appalling. How Elizabeth and Jane could live with such an abominable family was beyond him.

There was no way he would allow his friend to connect himself with such a family. He himself would never even think of an alliance with any of the Bennets, let alone actually _marry_ one of them! Darcy resolved to speak to Bingley about the matter as soon as possible.

But he realised that opening Bingley's eyes would not sway him in his resolve to marry Miss Jane Bennet if he was serious about it. Charles Bingley was rarely truly serious about anything or anyone, but when he was, it was extremely difficult to persuade him otherwise. Darcy would have to find another reason to prevent Bingley from carrying through with his matrimonial intentions.

He stared at Jane and Bingley. Bingley said something that he considered quite amusing, for he laughed happily. Jane in contrast, merely smiled and looked away.

Darcy studied her countenance closely. Her looks and manners were open, cheerful and engaging, but he could not detect any particular regard for his friend. It seemed to him that she took pleasure in his attentions, but she did not invite them. The serenity of her expressions and air made him wonder - was Jane Bennet indifferent to his friend?

That was a thought that required further attention.

* * *

For the rest of the evening, his opinion of the Bennet family (saving the two eldest daughters) gradually sank further and further. Their behaviour was not missed by Miss Bingley or Mrs. Hurst either; their insolent smiles at having further reason to ridicule the family were obvious. His silent contempt was not so easily noticed, he believed.

Darcy was diverted at times by Elizabeth and her attempts to rid herself of Mr. Collins. She was teased by the clergyman, who continued most perseveringly by her side, and even though she declined his offers to dance, he still would not leave her. Darcy considered talking to Elizabeth to help her escape her human shadow but remembered her allusions to Wickham and decided not to.

For some reason, (Darcy wondered if it was another of Mrs. Bennet's schemes) the Longbourn party had to wait a quarter of an hour for their carriage to arrive, and so the majority of the Netherfield party were obliged to suffer through fifteen minutes more of the Bennets' company.

Darcy heartily wished them away, as did Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. They scarcely opened their mouths except to complain of fatigue and repulsed every attempt at conversation. Most of the silence was filled by the long and pompous speeches of the clergyman, and Darcy wondered how his aunt could bear him. He then realised that the simpering toady would be exactly what she would want and so the mystery was cleared up.

In a little way away from them, Bingley was earnestly speaking to Jane. Darcy considered the idea that Jane was indifferent to Bingley. If she was, it would be a great asset in convincing Bingley not to marry her.

He questioned himself - was he convinced that Jane was indifferent to his friend because he wished it? In his determination to find another weapon against a Bingley-Bennet marriage, were his eyes deluding him? Darcy decided they weren't. His investigations and judgments he believed, were not influenced by his hopes or fears and his conscience was put at ease.

Finally, with one more of Lydia's yawns and exclamations of, "Lord, how tired I am!" the Bennets left. Darcy noticed that Elizabeth was very glad to leave. Mrs. Bennet pressed them all to come to dinner (Darcy vowed he never attend) and Bingley agreed to go on his return from London, where he was required to go the next day.

Darcy looked at Elizabeth one last time before she left. She looked straight back, and there was no hint of pleasure or happiness in her eyes. She looked relieved and embarrassed and rolled her eyes when Mr. Collins hurried to hand her into the carriage.

When the door was closed on them, Miss Bingley sighed gratefully.

"Thank goodness they finally left! If I had to stay in their company for one minute longer I would have screamed!" she declared. "That pompous cousin of theirs - have you ever seen such a windbag? And the mother - her barbarous manners! Her indecorous behaviour! Even the father, who I had believed to be a gentleman with an unfortunate wife, he is as bad as his family! And do not even _speak_ of those younger sisters!"

Darcy agreed wholeheartedly with her.

Then, with a significant look at Darcy, Miss Bingley said, "And Miss Eliza, when I tried to warn her about Mr. Wickham's less than honourable character (being the son of a steward I am not surprised) she rebuffed me and rudely implied that I should mind my own business!"

Darcy was surprised that Miss Bingley had been kind enough to tell Elizabeth the truth about Wickham. But he was crushed that Elizabeth still did not believe the truth.

"Well, I had a wonderful time. I do declare the ball was a great success!" said Bingley contentedly.

Speak for yourself! thought Darcy.

Darcy was now convinced of Jane's indifference to Bingley. From what he had witnesses of the Bennet family, he was even more determined to save his friend from what he believed to be an unhappy marriage. He resolved on informing his friend as soon as possible if it was proved that Bingley did intend to propose to Jane.

But he needed an ally to aid him in his mission, and he knew he could find one in Miss Caroline Bingley.


	13. Chapter 13

The next morning, Darcy awoke to find that Bingley had already left for London. He knew his friend had business in London, but he needed to know if Bingley was also thinking about possible matrimonial plans. He went in search of Miss Bingley.

Darcy went down for breakfast and found Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst engaged in a discussion of last night's ball. He listened to their conversation as he approached the room

"But Louisa, I cannot think why Mr. Darcy asked Miss Eliza Bennet to dance! She is so impertinent to him and does not respect him, I don't know why is still attracted to her!"

"What else is there that attracts him apart from her fine eyes?" replied Mrs. Hurst. "Though personally I do not see anything wonderful about her eyes."

Well, he thought absently, she is beautiful, independent, spirited, has a sense of humour, a sharp wit, and a capacity for great affection . . . .

"Why did he not dance with me? I am everything she is and more! I do not have relatives in trade or such a vulgar family and of course I am much more beautiful than her. All this time I have tried so hard to win his affections and . . . . "

With this reminder of Elizabeth, he allowed his mind to drift back to the ball. In his mind he re-lived the moment when she agreed to dance with him. Then the dance, and the pleasant feeling he experienced when their hands met . . .

By this point Darcy had reached the door. It was half-open and he knocked so that the ladies would have the chance to stop their conversation with dignity.

"Why, good morning Mr. Darcy!" said Miss Bingley with a false smile. She exchanged a look with her sister across he table which Darcy did not miss. "I trust you slept well."

"Yes, I did, thank you," replied he.

Darcy really needed to know Bingley's intentions about Jane and decided to ask his sisters.

Mrs. Hurst excused herself from the table, saying that she had better rouse Mr. Hurst.

 _Or just Miss Bingley._

Darcy got a cup of tea and walked to the window.

"Miss Bingley, I have a matter of some importance to discuss with you . . . ." His words trailed off as he saw Miss Bingley's hopeful and eager face reflected in the glass. He decided not to mention it.

"It concerns your brother."

He watched as her face fell.

 _What was she expecting, a proposal of marriage?_

"Miss Bingley, are you acquainted with your brother's intentions towards Miss Jane Bennet?"

"Why, yes," she said in a disappointed tone. "I believe there is some partiality for her on his side. But I, we have seen him in love many times so I doubt he is serious about her."

"Did he tell inform you of his business in London?"

Miss Bingley remembered vaguely - business with his attorneys, renew old acquaintances and such. But what caught Darcy's attention was a visit to the jewelers for a ring. Miss Bingley's information about Bingley going to the jewelers was the final proof that his friend was seriously thinking about proposing to Jane Bennet.

"Miss Bingley, I have reason to believe that your brother's affection for Miss Bennet is different from his earlier infatuations. It is very likely that he is serious enough to actually propose to her."

Miss Bingley was silent as she thought over this.

"I imagine that you share my opinion that Miss Bennet is not a good match for Bingley."

"Oh, yes, of course!" she cried, "But most of the Hertfordshire neighbourhood seems to share the expectation that there will be a marriage between the two. Mrs. Bennet certainly wishes it - she voiced her desire loudly enough last night."

"Yes, she did." Darcy sipped his tea and grimaced at the memory.

"Jane herself is a sweet girl, but her family and connections! Relations in trade, a lack of fortune, their cousin Mr. Collins is to inherit the estate. No, such a match would be a disgrace to our family. I have no doubt you would never be prevailed on to marry someone like the Miss Bennets."

"Certainly not. So such a marriage must be prevented."

"We could ensure that they do not meet."

"Keep them apart intentionally? No, that is . . . . . unethical. Besides, it would not work forever." He turned to face her. "The best course of action would be to convince either Miss Bennet or Bingley that a marriage between them is not a good idea."

"It would not work with Jane. Her mother would convince her otherwise."

"Then we must convince your brother. When he returns in five days you, _we_ will speak to him about this."

"But by that time he might be so fixed in his decision that nothing we say will affect his resolve." Miss Bingley smiled widely. "Mr. Darcy, is not your sister Georgiana in town?"

"Yes she is," replied he, wondering what she was thinking of.

"Do you not wish to see her?"

"Yes, I do."

"Then why don't we go to London? There, we can convince Charles the error of his choice of wife, without Jane being present to help convince him otherwise. If anyone inquires as to why we have all gone to Town, we can say you wished to see Georgiana."

Darcy considered that.

"And away from Hertfordshire and its populace Charles can more easily forget Jane and fall in love with a more appropriate young lady."

Darcy had a feeling there was an underlying meaning to Miss Bingley's last comment but didn't know what it could be.

"Yes, that is true. Shall we leave tomorrow then?"

Miss Bingley agreed and left to tell her sister of the travel plans.

* * *

The next morning found Darcy riding beside the carriage carrying Miss Bingley and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst. He glanced at the windows to see Miss Bingley smiling at him. He did not smile back but turned his attention back to his riding.

He kept telling himself this was for Bingley's own good. But what if he was wrong, and Jane really did love him?

No, that is not possible. She never looked as if she was in love with him.

They passed the fields. In the distance he could see Longbourn.

Darcy wondered what Elizabeth was doing. Was she walking in the fields? Was she reading a book?

Who did Mr. Collins propose to?

He started and reined in his horse. Elizabeth! Mr. Collins was planning to marry Elizabeth!

Had he already proposed to her? If he had, what was her response? Darcy knew that she would never accept such a foolish young man, but her mother was certainly wanting her to do so? Did Mr. and Mrs. Bennet pressure Elizabeth to accept her cousin?

 _Why are you so damned worried, Darcy?_ asked the rational part of his mind. _Why do you care is Miss Elizabeth Bennet does or does not marry Mr. Collins?_

Some ways in front of him, the carriage stopped and Miss Bingley looked out back at him.

"Whatever is the matter, Mr. Darcy?" she asked, concerned.

Darcy shook himself out of his thoughts and rode towards the carriage.

"It is of no consequence. Shall we continue?"

Miss Bingley drew her head inside and said something to the driver who whipped the horses. They resumed their journey.

Was it his imagination or were they traveling at a faster pace?

No matter. Darcy looked back at Longbourn which was disappearing behind a hill.

Another reason to leave Hertfordshire.

It would be much easier for Darcy to forget Elizabeth.

But at the back of his mind, Darcy resolved to check the wedding announcements in the paper daily. Just in case.


	14. Chapter 14

Apart from Darcy's pause on the road, they arrived in London with no other incident. Mr. Darcy invited them all to stay at his townhouse.

He saw a face at the window. As soon as he looked up, the face disappeared. Darcy saw it again coming down the stairs, covered in a large smile.

"Brother dear!" cried Georgiana. She looked as if she wanted to leap into his arms but then saw Miss Bingley and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst behind her and restrained herself.

"It is nice to see you all," said Georgiana shyly. "What brings you here?"

"Many things, Georgiana," replied her brother. "Would you go and arrange rooms for our guests, please?" He smiled at her.

"Oh, yes, of course." Georgiana quickly left to find the housekeeper.

Darcy turned his attention to the manservants unloading the large amount of luggage his guests had brought with them.

* * *

Darcy began to regret his invitation when he saw Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst whispering to each other and pointing out various rooms and discussing them. When they weren't discussing his house from top to bottom, they were constantly praising it to the skies.

He saw Miss Bingley closely scrutinising the drapes in the drawing room when he approached her. _Does she look upon this house as her own, or does she see a fault in them?_

"Miss Bingley."

The lady in question jumped up and turned to face him. "Where is Bingley staying in London?

After a moments recollection, Miss Bingley told him. Darcy thanked her and said that he would go there to fetch Mr. Bingley and bring him to stay at his townhouse.

* * *

Darcy found Bingley in his room at the Mayfair. A few minutes was all it took to invite his friend to leave and stay with his friends and family. Ten minutes later found the two in the carriage on their way home.

"So what brings you to London, Darcy?" asked his friend. "Is there something amiss with Netherfield? I expected to return to Hertfordshire in three days."

"No, no there is nothing the matter with Netherfield."

"Then what brings you here?"

The carriage rolled to a stop at it's destination and Darcy was spared from bringing up the topic of Bingley's marriage plans at the wrong time. He ordered the servants to bring the luggage to the rooms prepared.

They could hear murmurs of conversation from the drawing room. The two friends entered and Darcy went to his sister's side. Georgiana looked to see who their new visitor was and smiled.

"Charles."

Bingley kissed her hand and greeted her like the old friend she was. Darcy failed to notice the pleased look on Miss Bingley's face when she watched her brother and Georgiana.

A topic of conversation was introduced that went on for some minutes but Darcy knew he could not put off his talk with Bingley any longer.

He took a deep breath before he took the plunge of doing something that will hurt his friend badly, but would hopefully be for the best.

"Bingley, I need to speak to you on a matter of urgency. Will you join me in the library?"

His friend looked confused, but followed Darcy. He opened the door to let Bingley through. He looked back and gave a nod to Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst who were watching from the shadows.

* * *

Bingley stood in the middle of the room, an apprehensive look on his face. Darcy closed the door and waved him towards a chair. He himself remained standing, but soon began to walk around the room, unsure of how to begin. He could see that Bingley was beginning to worry, so he decided to be frank.

"Bingley my friend, how serious are you in your attachment towards Miss Jane Bennet?"

He was rewarded with a large smile

"Is that all you wanted to speak to me about? Well, I can assure you I am actually quite serious."

"Enough to make her a proposal of marriage?"

Bingley blushed but answered in the affirmative. To cover his embarrassment, he dug into his pocket and pulled out a small box. It was promptly opened and Bingley asked for Darcy's opinion.

Darcy stared at the ring. His worst fears were confirmed.

"If you did marry Miss Bennet, do you know what the you will be letting yourself in for?"

"I cannot think of what you could mean," said Bingley, rather annoyed.

"Think, man! The inferiority of her connections, the lack of propriety of her family! Can you afford to ignore them?"

Bingley half-rose from his seat. "Yes, I can!"

"No, you cannot!" Darcy calmed himself. "A man of your position cannot afford to . . . . degrade himself with such a woman, as beautiful and agreeable as she is. Her relatives - an uncle in trade in Meryton and another who lives in Cheapside."

"I do not care," said Bingley stubbornly.

"Her family! Did you not see their shocking behaviour at your own ball? In your own house!"

Bingley was silent.

"The mother, crying to the world about how a match between you and her daughter would 'throw the girls into the paths of other rich men'! The third sister, not knowing when to stop, when enough was enough. And the two youngest, chasing after the officers, flirting with them with not a single thought as to how they were exposing themselves."

"I do not care!" said Bingley. He did not look at his friend. "I love Jane and she loves me - "

"Are you sure?"

Bingley stopped and looked at Darcy.

"What do you mean?"

"In the whole of your acquaintance with her, has she ever told you that she loved you?"

"Yes! Well . . . to be specific . . . no. It was every day implied but never actually . . . said."

"I am sorry, Charles, but I must tell you. I believe that Jane does not return your affections."

"A - are you certain?"

"She has never said such to your sisters. I myself am convinced of it. I have watched her, Charles and I believe her regard for you is no more than maybe brotherly affection."

Bingley looked away, Darcy's words finally making sense to him.

"I know you care for her a great deal, my friend," said Darcy gently. "But I do not wish to see you throwing you life away on a woman who does not love you. Would you subject her to that? To be locked in a loveless marriage?"

"No . . . . "

Darcy felt extremely guilty as he saw tears welling up in his friend's eyes. But he knew what he said was true. Bingley had to know the truth.

But the truth hurt.

They stood there in silence for a while. Darcy watched sadly as his friend looked at the ring which before had held such joy for him but now held broken dreams. He could find no way to comfort him.

"I - I am sorry, Charles."

He turned and walked out of the room, leaving Bingley alone in the library.

* * *

He closed the door, to give Bingley the privacy to shed his tears. He saw Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, waiting outside to hear the result. The unspoken question was clear. Darcy did not answer but nodded his head. Then he walked away from them to his study.

Darcy sat in his chair and leaned his head back. It was done. It was difficult but it was done. It had hurt him greatly to cause pain to his friend but it was necessary.

Darcy had done the best for his friend.

But if it was for the best, then why did it hurt so much?


	15. Chapter 15

Bingley remained alone in the library for most of the afternoon, but roused himself enough to join them at dinner. Darcy saw that melancholy had replaced his friend's usual cheerfulness and for once, attempted to hold a conversation with his guests. He was careful to keep the topics away from Hertfordshire, Netherfield and marriage.

After dinner, Georgiana was prevailed on to play for them, but she was shy and declined to. Though Darcy was eager to hear how his sister fared with her music, he did not push her. Georgiana's shyness was beginning to become almost irritating, but he could think of no way to bring her out of her shell.

They all tried to distract Bingley, including him in their conversations, asking for his opinion. But Bingley merely replied or didn't even answer at times until the question was repeated. He soon excused himself and retired for the night, though it was still quite early. His sisters and brother-in-law followed suit and left Darcy alone with Georgiana.

Only now, in their privacy would Darcy embrace his sister. She laughed into his jacket and kissed him.

"It has been so long!" she whispered. "Though you did write often it is not the same as actually seeing you."

"I know, dearest," he replied. He kissed her then held her at arm's length.

"I do believe you have grown taller. You look more and more like Mother every day."

She blushed at the compliment.

"So, brother, how was Hertfordshire? Did you grow tired of Sir William? Did you meet any nice ladies? Will you return there, and if so, may I accompany you?"

Darcy laughed at the barrage of questions and sat down.

"Hertfordshire was quite pleasant, but I still believe Pemberley and Derbyshire are the dearest places in the world. The people I would say that I learnt to tolerate them after some weeks." Wanting to forget the place - and a certain inhabitant - he changed the subject and inquired after Georgiana's studies and her companion, Mrs. Annesley.

"I like her a great deal. She is firm, but kind and praises me generously though I do not deserve it. And - I believe she can be trusted," she added, looking at him.

Does she still blame herself for the incident at Ramsgate? It is more my fault than hers; I should have told her of Wickham's misconduct - she should not have to bear this guilt.

"Georgiana, I do hope you are no longer blaming yourself for _that_ incident. _He_ is a cunning wretch and is an adept in deceit. It is not your fault you were taken in; you should no longer blame yourself."

"I no longer do - but the memory is still uncomfortable."

"I am glad to hear it. Worry not - we shall never see or hear from him again."

Darcy had decided that telling her of his meeting with Wickham would do more harm than good, and it was of no importance if Georgiana did know he had seen Wickham in Hertfordshire.

They fell silent for a while, until Georgiana asked,

"Why is Charles so melancholy? He was such a pleasant, cheerful man when I saw him last. Did something terrible happen in Hertfordshire?"

Darcy started at this, unsure of what to tell her.

"Will you forgive me if I say that I will tell you at a later date, Georgiana?"

"Oh, well, yes."

He wanted to confide in her, but while he believed - no, _knew_ \- that his persuading Bingley of Jane's indifference was in his best interests, he feared that Georgiana would not share his opinion.

"Was Miss Elizabeth Bennet well when you saw her last?"

The sudden change of conversation to the lady Darcy was attempting to forget found him at a loss for words.

"She . . . she was . . . . quite well. I last saw her at the ball Bingley held two days ago. Yes, I believe she was very well indeed."

"You saw her at a ball?" said Georgiana. "I hope you asked her for at least one dance - you letters always mentioned her somewhere I conclude that you have enough interest in her to ask her to dance with you."

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did." He tried to drop the subject but Georgiana would not let him.

"That is wonderful! I wish I could meet her - you said last that you admired her and regarded her quite highly."

"I wish that you will." The chance to speak about Elizabeth was too tempting to ignore. "She is a lovely young woman with dark hair and beautiful eyes - her eyes are always sparkling, full of life. She is independent, intelligent and has a lively personality . . . ." He trailed off as he envisioned her as he saw her last, but when Georgiana laughed at his expression he came back to his senses.

"Are you in love, brother?"

"No, no, of course not!" he replied hastily. "I merely find her to be a lovely and charming woman."

"When will you see her again?"

Darcy had come to London to convince Bingley not to marry Jane and to forget Elizabeth, and returning to that neighbourhood would not help either objective.

"I don't know, but I believe it will not be for a long time. Possibly never again."

"Oh," said Georgiana, disappointed.

"I do not think Bingley has any intention to return to Netherfield. It is a possibility that he might even sell it, but that is yet to be confirmed."

Which was probably true. Seeing Bingley at dinner so withdrawn and unhappy, Darcy thought it was unlikely his friend would wish to return to Netherfield.

"Oh. Then it would not be right for me to ask if I could see Netherfield."

"No. And it is late so you, little sister, must be going to bed."

Georgiana took his advice and left. Darcy sat there for a little while longer before taking his own advice.

* * *

They settled in relatively quickly. There was hardly ever a dull moment - visits to friends, business to attend to, but whatever the activity, Bingley lost none of his melancholy. Whenever they proposed a visit to the theatre or the opera, Bingley would go without protest. Usually he did not have the patience for such things and before had usually made a show of not wanting to go. Now he attended these without complaint.

There were visits to friends and balls to attend. Darcy usually did not enjoy balls, but went to see if Bingley would improve in the company of others. It was not so. Bingley did talk to young ladies but was nothing more than polite. He rarely danced, only if Darcy or his sisters prevailed upon him to do so.

Darcy had hoped that Bingley's attachment to Jane Bennet was like his former attachments - short-lived and soon forgotten. But it was not so. Sometimes he caught Bingley in unguarded moments, where he observed Bingley fiddling with the ring he had bought. When he realised he was being watched, Bingley quickly put the ring back in his pocket.

"Do you hate me Bingley, for telling you?" he asked his friend one day when they were alone.

"Wh - ? Oh, no, of course not, Darcy! I could never hate you . . . "

And that was all he would say.

But Darcy had his own problems to deal with. For some reason, the memory of Elizabeth would not leave him alone. If he was idling his time away with a book, he would suddenly find himself wondering what Elizabeth was doing. He checked the papers everyday but he did not find an announcement proclaiming the engagement of Mr. William Collins, clergyman to Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn.

Then one morning he found it.

It was long but all he needed were the names.

Mr. William Collins to Miss Charlotte Lucas of Lucas Lodge.

Darcy stared at the announcement, not knowing what to think. Relief flooded through him. She was not married to that simpering clergyman! Then his mind took over and he wondered why he was relieved. It was not as if her matrimonial state meant anything to him.

Did it?

* * *

One day he was trying to keep his attention on his book and off Elizabeth when he heard someone leaving the house. There was the sound of shoes walking slowly down the hall. He went to the landing to see who it was.

He could not see her face, but he had spent a long time studying this lady so he knew instantly who it was.

Jane Bennet.

He stood there for some minutes, tapping his fingers.

Her presence in London was going to present a problem. Did she come to see Bingley's sisters or Bingley himself? Should he tell Bingley?

He decided against it - he did not think Bingley's interest in her had cooled enough for him to see her without some danger.

Darcy returned to the library, his book and his thoughts of Elizabeth.


	16. Chapter 16

Christmas soon came. Darcy did not see Jane again, though he imagined she was staying in London, probably with her Cheapside relatives. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst never brought up the topic of her visit, nor did Darcy.

The festive season brought more invitations to balls and parties. Darcy attended many, partly to cheer up his friend, partly to help Georgiana overcome her shyness. He had a moderate success with both.

All too soon, it was the new year. Darcy silently resolved to take batter care of Georgiana. But he also knew that there had to be an heir for his estate so he resolved to try and find himself a wife.

Darcy wanted above everything else to find someone who would love him - not for Pemberley or his connections or his ten thousand a year but for himself; a lady who would marry him even if he was a beggar. Unfortunately, such women were rare - he had never met such a woman and he wondered if they were just a product of his imagination. Darcy had encountered many Miss Bingleys in his twenty-seven years, all who had eyes on his estate and income and didn't care about how he felt. He was beginning to lose hope, and would probably soon resign himself to marrying his cousin Anne de Bourgh.

And so another year had come and gone. Bingley became more like his usual self, but there were still spells of melancholy; his sister would not lose hope on gaining his attentions.

Time moved on.

* * *

Darcy's cousin came to London in February. He was very glad to see him - Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam was full of good humour and was not above teasing his more taciturn relative.

"Darcy! How was your visit to Hertfordshire? Did you meet any lovely young ladies?" were his first words to him.

Darcy laughed and poured the Colonel a glass of wine. They were all alone in the house - Georgiana had left to see her music master, Mr. and Mrs. Hurst and Bingley were out in town and Miss Bingley had left without telling anyone where she was going, but she did not look very happy about it.

"I met an inordinate number of young ladies, but there was only one who I deem worthy of the title 'lovely'."

"Oh? This is a new development? May I inquire as to who this maiden is?"

Darcy smiled at his cousin but mentally kicked himself for letting himself into this situation. But his cousin would not let him change the subject so he had no choice but to continue.

"She is Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She is the second eldest in a family of five daughters."

Fitzwilliam smiled. When Darcy did not continue, he said, "And - ?"

"And she is beautiful, fond of lively conversation, very accomplished for she plays and sings very well."

"As well as Georgiana?"

"Not quite, but she plays with such ease and with an unaffected manner she is pleasure to hear."

"This is quite a first! Admiration of a woman from you, Darcy? Are you in love?"

"Why does everyone think that? No, I am not."

"Well, Darcy, if that is the case why are you here in London? Why did you not stay at Netherfield and enjoy this lady's company?"

"Bingley was beginning to form an attachment to a young lady so we came to London to convince him the error of his choice."

Fitzwilliam was silent for a while.

"There were very strong objections to the woman, cousin," added Darcy upon seeing his cousin's face. "Her position, her connections, that sort of thing."

"And what was Bingley's response to this?"

"He did not take it well, but it was in his best interests. The marriage would have been most inconvenient for him."

"Oh . . "

They soon talked of lighter things. Darcy was grateful for this change. He did not want to be reminded of his talk with Bingley, or his friend's unhappiness.

"Don't forget - we have to visit Aunt Catherine in March."

"Oh no. The Annual Visit - when Aunt keeps dropping hints about Anne and me, hours of listening to her talk, no I have not forgotten."

"I feel sorry for you cousin. That is the advantage of being a younger son - you do not have the pressure to marry."

Darcy laughed.

"So when would you like to leave?"

"Late March - it will make the visit as short as possible."

"Yes, I agree. There is nothing to hold us there, is there."

"No, there isn't."


	17. Chapter 17

Time passed slowly between Colonel Fitzwilliam's arrival (which was greeted with much enthusiasm by most) and the day Darcy and his cousin had to go to Rosings. During that time, Darcy found many distractions from the boredom the aristocracy usually experience.

The first was Bingley. He was quieter, more subdued though he was lively enough in smaller gatherings of his friends.

The second was Miss Bingley. No matter how politely he parried all her attempts to gain his attentions she still did not realise that Darcy had absolutely no interest in her apart from his best friend's relative.

His own sister was the third. Georgiana was still very shy in society, and though he was determined to overcome her shyness, he did not have the heart to push her. Colonel Fitzwilliam was also a distraction. His good-natured teasing was a welcome relieve - sometimes - from the politeness and respect everyone held for him, though Darcy sometimes did wish Fitzwilliam did have a bit more respect for him.

And last, but not least, was Elizabeth Bennet.

Unlike the others, he could not avoid this distraction. Wherever he went, whatever he did, she followed. It was rather pleasant; something to smile at in a time of little cheer. If he was reading, he saw her sitting in a chair near him curled up with one of his favourite works. At balls, he would imagine she was also there. She would dance with him and Darcy would experience that pleasant shock he remembered when their hands touched.

But after a while, it became slightly annoying.

Once he was fencing with Colonel Fitzwilliam. For some reason, he thought of his conversations with Elizabeth, which were like fencing match. Attack, parry, defend - it was very similar but with words instead of rapiers.

Suddenly the weapon was struck out of his hand and it clattered on the ground.

Fitzwilliam was looking at him curiously.

"Well, Darcy, that is quite unusual. You are never defeated after only two exchanges. Is there something on your mind?"

"No . . . nothing of importance."

"Do not deny it, cousin. What is it? Maybe it is your Elizabeth Bennet you are always telling me about. Hardly a day goes by in which you do not mention her at least once. Am I right?"

Baines interrupted them, asking them to clear the area for the next opponents. Darcy took advantage of this opportunity to escape the uncomfortable questions. He did not want to lie, but nor did he want to tell his cousin the truth.

Finally, on the morning of their departure, Darcy realised that his obsession with Elizabeth had crossed from irritating to disturbing.

He woke up that morning and lay in bed for some time, summoning up the strength to last through the visit. He groaned - there would be no one there except his aunt, his cousin and her companion. Actually, there would also be that simpering clergyman who lived nearby, the one who was Elizabeth's cousin.

With the thought of Elizabeth, he idly looked down to the empty space in the bed beside him. For a brief moment he imagined her lying there, her dark hair curling over her shoulders and a slight smile on her face as she peacefully slept.

With a feeling of shock and revulsion, Darcy got out of the bed and stormed across the room.

"Stay out of my mind!" he cried to the unfeeling walls.

 _What is wrong with me?_ he thought to himself. _Why does she dominate my thought like this? I came to London to forget her and yet my thoughts are turned more frequently towards her!_

Angry more at himself for his lack of control than at the lady herself, he flung himself into a chair and brooded.

Alerted by the noise, a servant opened the door and asked if his master required anything.

"No! Leave me!"

Terrified, the man left. Darcy listened to the footsteps rapidly disappearing and stared into the fireplace.

Some minutes later, there was a sharp knock on the door again.

"Who is it!" growled Darcy.

"It is I," said his cousin. Without ceremony the door was opened and the Colonel stepped inside.

"Darcy are you ill? Good Lord, you are not even dressed! We have to leave in half an hour if we are to reach Rosings in time."

Darcy did not answer.

"You cannot escape your duties, cousin. And you have a duty towards Lady Catherine. She is family."

Darcy sighed, feeling his duties settle over him like a leaden weight. Duty. He had a duty towards his family, a duty towards his estates, a duty towards Bingley and more. The list went on and on.

 _When can I do my duties towards myself?_

He sighed.

"No, I have not forgotten." Darcy stood up and faced his cousin. "I shall join you downstairs in ten minutes."

Fitzwilliam nodded and left, closing the door.

Darcy reached for the clothes the valet had laid out for him.

* * *

Eight minutes later he was walking down the staircase towards the door. There he observed Bingley and his relations and Georgiana waiting on the steps to say their farewells. Fitzwilliam was directing the servants to place the luggage on the carriage.

Miss Bingley, with no surprise was the first to say her good-byes.

"Well, sir, so you are to spend some time with your relations? I wish you a safe journey."

"I thank you."

"And you will return soon? I know that I . . . we will be most unhappy without your company. And the Colonel's," she added hurriedly.

"I hope so."

Mr. and Mrs. Hurst merely wished him well; Bingley was the only who he knew he would miss apart from Georgiana. He promised his friend and his sister that he would write often and then the Colonel joined him in his farewells.

Time soon commanded that they begin the journey and so they entered the carriage and drove off to Kent.

* * *

Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam passed the time agreeably for most of the journey.

"Did I mention to you that Colonel Forster was in Hertfordshire?"

"No, you did not, Darcy," replied he. "How was he?"

"In excellent health. He has lately married - did you know that?"

"Old Rudolph Forster, married? That is a new development indeed! And how does matrimony suit him?"

"I think it does him very well." He paused. "Wickham has joined his regiment."

"Did he now! I wish Forster good luck with _him_. Heaven knows that man is a dirty scoundrel. I hope you managed well with Wickham in town."

"I think I did. I only saw him briefly - I was half-afraid he would attend a ball Bingley was holding, but he did not."

"It is good for him he did not. I know what you are capable of, Darcy, when you are terribly angry."

Darcy smiled grimly at his cousin.

"Yes."

There was silence for a while, then Darcy looked outside and wondered how long it was until Kent.

"I do not think it is much longer."

Darcy nodded and sat back in his seat.

Kent - even further away from Hertfordshire and its intriguing resident.

Maybe he could finally get her out of his mind.


	18. Chapter 18

They arrived at Rosings in that afternoon. As they drove by the lodgings opening into a nearby lane, they observed a rather large man in a clergyman's clothes. They were unable to see his face, as it was hidden by the very deep bow the man was making.

"Who on earth is that fellow?" asked Colonel Fitzwilliam, "and what is he doing in that ridiculous position?"

Though the man's face was hidden, Darcy knew who it was.

"I believe that is Aunt Catherine's clergyman, a Mr. William Collins."

"Does he always behave like that to her?"

"I do not know. But we shall soon find out."

* * *

Ten minutes later found them sitting in the drawing room at Rosings with Lady Catherine, her daughter and her companion.

"It is wonderful to see you again, my dear nephews. We have missed you so much! Anne, especially has missed your company, Darcy," said Lady Catherine.

Darcy rolled his eyes, which Colonel Fitzwilliam saw. His cousin looked at him with sympathy.

"I am sure you have, aunt. What have you been doing with yourself in our absence?" said the Colonel, skillfully changing the subject.

"Oh, I have not been completely without company, Fitzwilliam," replied she, "Though they are not of our social standing, they are interesting enough. My clergyman has recently married. Her sister and friend have come to visit her and I invite them over quite often."

"Who did he marry?" asked Darcy, sure that it was the former Miss Charlotte Lucas.

"A Miss Lucas of Hertfordshire. Mr. Collins found her when he was visiting relations there. Mrs. Collins' father came to visit, a Sir William Lucas. He has left now, but her sister, Miss Maria Lucas and friend, Miss Elizabeth Bennet are to remain here for some time."

Darcy sat up straight and looked at his aunt.

"Who is Mrs. Collins' friend?" he asked abruptly.

"A Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I believe she is Mr. Collins' cousin as well."

Darcy heard nothing more, but got up and walked to the window. He stared at the grounds below. He sensed that Colonel Fitzwilliam was staring at him strangely but hardly noticed.

 _She is here?_ his mind said disbelievingly. _She is here, close to Rosings! She will be staying for some time and is not married?_

His mind raced. He _had_ to see her!

A servant entered and announced the arrival of Mr. Collins.

He had not changed since Darcy had last seen him. The man was still short, rather large and sweaty and his fawning had, if such a thing was possible, increased upon coming into the presence of his patroness.

"My lady, as soon as I knew that your wonderful relations had arrived, I immediately came to pay them my respects. Mr. Darcy, I am honoured to say, I have met before, in Hertfordshire. The excellent Colonel, I have not, but may I say that it gives me very great pleasure to see him."

The man bowed deeply towards them both.

Darcy looked at his cousin, smiling as he observed an expression of incredulousness on his face.

"And may I also say on behalf of my family and relations that we are very pleased that you are visiting your illustrious aunt . . . "

"Then let us thank your relations ourselves," said the Colonel. There was a sense of anticipation in his cousin's that Darcy did not miss. "Come man, why don't you go on ahead to tell them of our coming, and we shall join you later?"

Mr. Collins looked as if he would be willing to die and meet his Maker if the honourable guests were to step into his humble abode.

Darcy's heart was beating quickly. He would see her again, after all these months!

"Oh yes, sir, I would be greatly honoured, if you would . . . "

Lady Catherine made a gesture causing the man to stop talking.

"I am excessively displeased - there is no reason for you to go, Fitzwilliam. There is no one of out social rank there to make the trip worthwhile. Darcy agrees with me, do you not?"

Darcy turned towards his aunt.

"Quite the contrary, madam. I wish to thank these people who have been so obliging as to entertain you before we arrived."

His answer must have surprised his aunt for she did not say a word for a full ten seconds, which was enough time for the two men to fetch their hats and leave the house.

* * *

Mr. Collins had begun to run on ahead of them. Darcy could tell the man was not a frequent athlete - he was slowing before he had gone twenty paces. But he was determined to arrive there before Darcy and Fitzwilliam and he was soon lost to sight.

At a more leisurely pace, the two men followed.

"Well, Darcy, this is an unexpected pleasure! I finally am able to meet this famous Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

"Yes, a great surprise," answered Darcy absently.

His mind still could not fully comprehend that she was there, within an easy visiting distance, possibly even closer than she was in Hertfordshire. He wondered - was she still the same? Had she changed at all?

The Hunsford Parsonage came into view, and Mr. Collins stood panting in the doorway, inviting them into his humble abode.

* * *

Darcy sat down on the sofa. He barely noticed Mr. Collins sitting in the seat beside him, or his wife and sister-in-law. All his attention was on Elizabeth.

As soon as introductions had been made, Colonel Fitzwilliam had seated himself beside Elizabeth and struck up a conversation.

"I'm delighted to make your acquaintance at last, Miss Elizabeth," said he.

"At last, sir?" asked Elizabeth.

"Well, I've heard much of you and none of the praise has been exaggerated I assure you."

 _Of course not._

He stared at her. She had not changed. She was still lovely - her eyes had even become more beautiful, if a little sad. She smiled at his cousin - and Darcy felt a surge of emotion he had never before felt before in his life.

"I well believe Mr. Darcy is my severest critic."

 _Why does she think that? She has nothing to criticise!_

"I hope we shall see you frequently at Rosings," continued the Colonel after a short pause. "I am fond of lively conversation."

"And this you do not find at Rosings Park?" asked the lady.

"Well, my aunt does talk a great deal, it seldom requires a response. My friend there," he said, nodding at Darcy, "speaks hardly a word when he comes into Kent, though he's lively enough in other places." Fitzwilliam leaned in a bit closer towards his companion. Darcy resisted an urge to interrupt them.

"Nobody plays, nobody sings. I believe you play and sing, Miss Bennet."

"A little, and very ill - I would not wish to excite your anticipation."

 _Why so modest? You play very well, as I have told my cousin frequently._

"I'm sure you're too modest, but any relief would be profoundly welcome I assure you," replied Fitzwilliam.

Suddenly, Elizabeth looked directly at him, and then asked his cousin,

"Can you tell me why Mr. Darcy keeps staring at me?"

A silence greeted this question. Darcy was aghast at being noticed in his activity, and fervently prayed his cousin would not answer.

He decided their conversation had gone far enough. They had no right to talk about him.

Darcy got up from his chair and walked slowly over to them. He stood over them and addressed Elizabeth. The room was silent.

"I hope your family is in good health?"

A safe, neutral question, though heartily wished he could say something more . . . intimate.

"Thank you, yes," replied she, looking up at him and giving him one of those indecipherable looks that intrigued him so.

He did not move away, wondering if she would say anything.

She did - but it was not the question he had been expecting.

"My sister has been in town these three months - have you never happened to see her there?"

 _How did she know I saw her?_

He regained control of his inner turmoil - she did not know, she was merely inquiring. But it was out of the question that he should tell her the truth - and so Darcy had to lie.

"No . . . no I have not had that pleasure."

Telling a lie, even such a small one, was uncomfortable for him. He moved away from her to the window to hide his discomfort.

"Mr. Darcy and I, you see, are not the best of friends."

"Well, I am very surprised to hear that," replied the Colonel.

"Why should you be? I always believe in first impressions, and his good opinion once lost, is lost forever."

Darcy looked back slightly at her. His own words, again thrown back into his face.

"So you see it is a hopeless case is it not, Colonel Fitzwilliam?" said Elizabeth.

Darcy was confused at her words. What did she think of him?

There was little of interest after that. Darcy watched as Elizabeth and his cousin talked and laughed. Sometimes they would look at him, and he fumed at being the subject of their discourse.

As dusk fell, the two gentlemen left for Rosings.

* * *

"That was a pleasant evening, was it not, Darcy?" sighed the Colonel in the study at Rosings. "Miss Bennet is a very wonderful woman, do you not agree?"

"You seemed to get along quite well with her," he said reservedly.

"It surprised me that she said you two were not the best of friends. From what you told me, I imagined you were."

"Information can be misleading, Fitzwilliam."

"Her sister was in town? Why did I not see her?"

"London is a very large city, cousin. Finding one person out of millions is unlikely."

"True."

They sat in silence - one remembering his companion's charm, that other extremely confused, smitten and . . . .

Darcy did not know what he was feeling. It was something he had never felt before, but it was not kind towards his cousin. It also involved Elizabeth - she was right in the middle of it.

He went to bed to sort out his muddled emotions.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19-Questions Have Answers That Lead to More Questions

Darcy awoke, no closer to sorting out his tangled thoughts this morning than he was last night. He decided to go for a morning ride along his favourite walk. Perhaps the fresh air would assist his thinking.

This walk was along the open grove which edged that side of the park, where there was a nice sheltered path, which no one seemed to value but himself, and where he felt beyond the reach of people's scrutiny.

He rode along, deep in thought. Elizabeth's staying so close to Rosings was a shock. Whether it was pleasant or pain it was undecided, though he was inclined to think the former.

But her presence was not likely to help him keep his control - whenever he was near her it took all his self-control not to do anything rash.

Suddenly, as he rode past the trees, he saw her.

Elizabeth was dressed in a white muslin gown, the upper part covered by a curry-coloured coat. Her eyes looked out at him in surprise from under her dark hair and bonnet.

She was so breathtakingly lovely, her form framed by the greenery of the trees. He reined in his horse and looked at her.

The lady paused in her walk and clasped her hands in front of her. She did not speak.

Perhaps that was best, for Darcy was unable to say a word. A dry, sensible part of his mind suggested that he leave before he said something he would regret later on, so he kicked his horse back into action and slowly, regretfully rode away.

The moment he was clear of the trees he went into a gallop, and proceeded quickly back to the house.

* * *

Just as he arrived, he observed Colonel Fitzwilliam about to leave.

"Where are you going, cousin?" asked he.

"Oh, I am to go to the Parsonage again. I intended to go earlier, but Miss Bennet said that she often took a walk by herself in Rosings Park, so I informed her that I would come to visit later."

Darcy resisted an impulse to physically hold the Colonel back to prevent him from going. Seeing them so at ease in each other's company was not agreeable with him.

 _But why?_ thought his mind. _She has no obligation to you, that she speak with no other gentleman apart from yourself._

Seeing no reply from his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam left the house, whistling a jolly tune.

This development meant that Darcy had to spend most of the day with his aunt and cousin.

* * *

"And so, my dear Anne told her that it was not proper for a lady to go to the shops by herself. A lady, I always say, must be accompanied at all times by an older woman, or a male acquaintance," said Lady Catherine.

No one answered this tale. They had sat there for nearly two hours after lunch holding a conversation. But as Darcy was not inclined to speak, nor was his cousin, then Lady Catherine took the task upon herself. Colonel Fitzwilliam had not yet returned, and Darcy was telling himself not to go after his cousin and tell him to come home.

Footsteps were heard in the hall and Darcy got up to intercept his cousin before Lady Catherine did.

"Well, Darcy, how do you do? What were you and our aunt speaking of that made you so eager to come and see me?"

"Too many to count. Shall we excuse ourselves and go to the study?"

Fitzwilliam agreed and they briefly returned to the drawing room to excuse themselves. They entered the rarely used study, and the Colonel sat in the chair while Darcy preferred to stand near the mantle.

"So what did you do at the Parsonage?" asked Darcy, hiding his curiosity.

"Much of my time was spent conversing with Miss Bennet. I enjoyed myself profusely."

"And what did you speak of?"

"Many things; her family, music, various books, even politics at times. She is a very interesting young lady."

"Oh? Is that all?" pressed he. Darcy wanted to know if their conversations were at all similar to the ones he and Elizabeth had held together.

"Well, at I must confess, _you_ were a lengthy topic of conversation that she introduced."

Darcy turned to face his cousin.

" _She_ wished to talk about _me_?" he asked incredulously.

"Why yes. You were very interesting," said the Colonel, laughing. "And I intend to go there again tomorrow and continue 'our conversation'."

 _What? Again?_

"Cousin, I feel that it would be unwise for you to form an attachment to Miss Bennet," said he.

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Her position in society - she will not inherit her father's estate, not does she have any fortune."

"Is that all?" laughed Fitzwilliam. "I already knew all that - and no I have no 'plans' - younger sons cannot marry where they like, remember?"

Darcy nodded.

"So it was only with a practical view that you have cautioned me?" He laughed again, getting up from his seat and opening the door. "If it was not that, I would have thought you were jealous, Darcy."

He left the room, closing the door behind him, leaving Darcy standing stiffly at the window. The last comment by Fitzwilliam repeated itself over and over again.

 _"I would have thought you were jealous, Darcy."_

Jealousy! That was what he felt against his cousin. It was frightening - it nearly went deep enough or Darcy to wish harm to his relation.

 _But if jealousy is what I feel for Fitzwilliam because he has Elizabeth's attentions, then what do I feel for her?_ ran his thoughts.

His heart knew the answer. It had known the answer for many months now, though his mind had never acknowledged it.

 _He loved her._

The moment he realised that, a feeling of peace settled over him. After such a long time, he finally admitted it to himself. He sighed, seeing her as she had appeared to him that morning.

Then his mind took precedence again and curtly asked him,

 _You are in love. So now, what do you plan to do about it?_

Darcy did not know.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20-I Am Not Afraid of You

Colonel Fitzwilliam again expressed his intention of visiting the Parsonage again at breakfast the next morning, an intention that was responded with questions from Lady Catherine and silence from his two cousins, one because she had no interest in it and the other because he had a very great interest in it.

Now that he knew what he felt for Elizabeth and his cousin, Darcy tried to control these feelings. The jealousy for the Colonel was not too difficult - all he had to do was remind himself that his cousin was his cousin and all his cousin had done for him over the years and that jealousy for relations was not a gentlemanly thing.

As for his . . . love for Elizabeth, well, that was slightly more difficult.

He remembered how he had seen her yesterday morning and wondered if she would be there again today. He felt as if he did not go the day without seeing her fair countenance, he would be most unhappy.

But is was not within the limits of propriety that a gentleman such as him should purposely walk to meet a lady. So he told himself not to follow through with his desire.

* * *

Twenty minutes later found himself walking along the place where he had seen her yesterday, telling himself he was merely walking for his own health. For his physical health or mental health he did not know.

She was there.

Elizabeth was walking off the path, looking up at the tree canopy above. She did not notice him until she was but a few feet from him. Only then did she look back, and when she saw him there, she stopped and frowned slightly.

"Good morning, Miss Bennet," said Darcy, lifting his hat.

"Mr. Darcy," she replied without any emotion, "Good morning."

She nodded to him and made as if to continue on her walk.

"I hope you are well," said he, unable to think of anything to say.

 _Why, whenever I am around her, my tongue seems to lose its will to move?_

"I am quite well, thank you."

"And your family?"

"They are also quite well, so my sister tells me when she writes."

An awkward silence fell after this, with only the chirping of the birds flying above heard.

"Do you often walk in the park?" asked he.

"Tolerably often. Whenever I feel the need for solitude I come here. This walk in fact, is perhaps my favourite haunt."

Darcy wished to say that this walk was also his favourite which he used to escape the questionings of his aunt, but his tongue would not respond.

Elizabeth walked past him and did not look back. Darcy altered his position and walked with her. She glanced at him strangely but did not protest.

"I take it to believe that you enjoy solitary walks?" he pressed, looking at her. After some moments, he told his eyes to adjust their present position and reluctantly they did so.

"Yes, I do in fact."

"Even if it is through fields after the rains?" he continued, referring to her walk to Netherfield. At that time he had thought it was rather shocking - now all he could remember was how lovely she had looked when he had met her in the garden.

At this remark, she looked at him from beneath her dark curls. He attempted to gauge her thoughts, unsuccessfully.

"If the occasion justifies it, and I believe that the health of a sister certainly justifies it. But I suppose, you have a different opinion."

"Perhaps I do."

Darcy certainly did not want to tell her how much he admired her.

They found themselves at the gate in the pales near the Parsonage, and here Darcy left her. None of them said farewell, and quite frankly, Darcy was glad to be out of her presence, as it had been playing havoc with the rhythms of his heart.

* * *

 _What do I do, what do I do?_ thought Darcy later on that day in his room. He was surprised the floor had not been worn down by his pacing.

Colonel Fitzwilliam had already left by the time he returned from his walk in the park of Rosings and Darcy was on one hand grateful that his cousin had left before he had done anything to prevent him from visiting, and on the other, angered his cousin had gone. His mind remained sensible and curtly told him that his cousin had every right to see Elizabeth.

He sat down on the bed and held his head in his hands. He knew he loved her, and he was astonished and frightened of its depth, but he knew not what to do about it.

* * *

For the rest of the week, he kept going to the walk but he did not see her. Colonel Fitzwilliam teased him on his sudden enthusiasm for the exercise and Lady Catherine also took notice of his daily morning disappearances. He eluded all their questions but some success, though it became harder as the week progressed.

The residents and visitors were not invited to Rosings that entire week, and so the two men were forced to endure evening after evening of their aunt's company. Darcy knew it was not proper to dislike one's relatives, but his aunt was an exception.

Finally on Easter Sunday, Lady Catherine invited them all to dinner at Rosings (after many suggestions by Colonel Fitzwilliam).

Darcy found Mr. Collins' sermons long, pompous and quite frankly, boring. Because of his aunt's insistence on maintaining social rank, they sat at the front of the church, while Mrs. Collins, her sister and friend sat several rows behind the upper members of the local community. Darcy agreed with his aunt with keeping the distinction of rank preserved but he still wished he had been able to sit closer to Elizabeth.

His thoughts and questions had plagued him the entire week. He wished he could go to confession and seek counsel but he certainly did not want to go to confession at this parish. The possibility of speaking his most private thoughts to Mr. Collins was by no means wanted.

After the service had concluded, Lady Catherine had sent Colonel Fitzwilliam to Mr. Collins to invite his relations to Rosings. The invitation was of course accepted, and at the proper hour the party arrived and joined them in the drawing room.

* * *

As they entered, Darcy had to remind himself to keep in control and to not show Elizabeth any particular regard. This was rather difficult, as his heart wanted the exact opposite.

Her ladyship received them civilly, but it was plain that their company was by no means so acceptable as when she could get nobody else; and she was, in fact, almost engrossed by her nephews, speaking to them, especially to Darcy, much more than to any other person in the room. Darcy found this especially irritating as he wanted to have the freedom to speak with Elizabeth.

Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed really glad to see them; any thing was a welcome relief to him at Rosings. There was little to do at his aunt's home and Darcy could understand that his cousin was rather bored and tried to alleviate this boredom by visiting the Parsonage.

 _But surely he could have some other form of entertainment than spending time in Elizabeth's company._

He now seated himself by her, and talked so agreeably and conversed with so much spirit and flow, as to draw the attention of Lady Catherine herself as well as of Darcy, whose resistance to interrupt the pair was very creditable. Lady Catherine, however was not able to resist calling out,

"What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is."

"We are speaking of music, Madam," said he, when no longer able to avoid a reply.

"Of music! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. I must have my share in the conversation, if you are speaking of music. There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever learnt, I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to apply. I am confident that she would have performed delightfully."

Darcy tried not to smile at his aunt's speech.

"How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?"

Darcy spoke with affectionate praise of his sister's proficiency.

"I am very glad to hear such a good account of her and pray tell her from me, that she cannot expect to excel, if she does not practice a great deal."

"I assure you, Madam," he replied, "that she does not need such advice. She practices very constantly."

"So much the better. It cannot be done too much; and when I next write to her, I shall charge her not to neglect it on any account. I often tell young ladies, that no excellence in music is to be acquired, without constant practice. I have told Miss Bennet several times, that she will never play really well, unless she practices more; and though Mrs. Collins has no instrument, she is very welcome, as I have often told her, to come to Rosings every day, and play on the piano forte in Mrs. Jenkinson's room. She would be in nobody's way, you know, in that part of the house."

Darcy was ashamed of his aunt's lack of tact and politeness and did not answer.

 _Just because you are of a higher class does not mean that you can behave in such a manner towards them._

Mr. and Mrs. Collins said nothing but praise of Lady Catherine and her relations and Miss Lucas said nothing at all. Anne de Bourgh was silent for most of the evening, save when she raised her handkerchief to her face to sneeze of cough into it.

Colonel Fitzwilliam reminded Elizabeth of having promised to play to him; and she sat down directly to the instrument. He drew a chair near her. Darcy sent a brief angry glare towards his cousin but soon stopped himself. Lady Catherine listened to half a song, and then talked, as before, to her other nephew; till the latter walked away from her, and moving with his usual deliberation towards the piano forte, stationed himself so as to command a full view of the fair performer's countenance, as well as to cut off any intimate conversation Elizabeth and cousin might be sharing. Elizabeth saw what he was doing, and at the first convenient pause, turned to him with an arch smile, and said,

"You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me? But I will not be alarmed though your sister does play so well. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me."

 _Intimidate you? Why would I wish to do that?_

"I shall not say that you are mistaken," he replied, "because you could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you; and I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know, that you find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which in fact are not your own."

Elizabeth laughed heartily at this, and said to Colonel Fitzwilliam, "Your cousin will give you a very pretty notion of me, and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am particularly unlucky in meeting with a person so well able to expose my real character, in a part of the world where I had hoped to pass myself off with some degree of credit. Indeed, Mr. Darcy, it is very ungenerous in you to mention all that you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire - and, give me leave to say, very impolitic too, for it is provoking me to retaliate, and such things may come out, as will shock your relations to hear."

 _I doubt that. I believe I have always acted, and always will, act in a gentlemanly manner towards people, and especially you, Elizabeth._

"I am not afraid of you," said he, smilingly.

 _How can any one be afraid of someone he admires so greatly?_ At times, Darcy still was reluctant to acknowledge the fact the Cupid's arrow had finally found him.

"Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of," cried Colonel Fitzwilliam. "I should like to know how he behaves among strangers."

"You shall hear then - but prepare yourself for something very dreadful."

Darcy tried to think of what could be so terrible and did not find anything.

"The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at a ball - and at this ball, what do you think he did? He danced only four dances! I am sorry to pain you but so it was. He danced only four dances, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy, you cannot deny the fact."

Colonel Fitzwilliam had been laughing at this rendition, while Darcy mentally kicked himself for the thousandth time for refusing the offer for dancing with Elizabeth for the first time at that long-ago Meryton Assembly.

"I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the assembly beyond my own party," said he, implying that it would have been an honour to know her especially.

"True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball room. Well, Colonel Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your orders."

"Perhaps," said Darcy, trying to defend his actions that evening, "I should have judged better, had I sought an introduction, but I am ill qualified to recommend myself to strangers."

He said this as an oblique apology for his behaviour that evening, which she would hopefully understand. Though he did not see what was so bad about his manner that evening. But if Elizabeth found fault in it, he was quite happy to make amends for it.

"Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?" said Elizabeth, still addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam. "Shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is ill qualified to recommend himself to strangers?"

"I can answer your question," said Fitzwilliam before Darcy could answer, "without applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble."

"I certainly have not the talent which some people possess," said Darcy, "of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done."

"My fingers," said Elizabeth, "do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women's do. They have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault - because I would not take the trouble of practicing. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any other woman's of superior execution."

Darcy smiled, and said, "You are perfectly right. You have employed your time much better. No one admitted to the privilege of hearing you, can think any thing wanting. We neither of us perform to strangers."

Elizabeth did not reply but looked at him without smiling as if trying to comprehend his remark. Darcy held his breath, wondering if he had said too much.

Here they were interrupted by Lady Catherine, who called out to know what they were talking of. Elizabeth immediately began playing again. Lady Catherine approached, and, after listening for a few minutes, said to Darcy,

"Miss Bennet would not play at all amiss, if she practiced more, and could have the advantage of a London master. She has a very good notion of fingering, though her taste is not equal to Anne's. Anne would have been a delightful performer, had her health allowed her to learn."

Darcy took little notice of this, and never took his eyes off Elizabeth. He observed she was watching him carefully.

Colonel Fitzwilliam was also watching him.

Lady Catherine continued her remarks on Elizabeth's performance, mixing with them many instructions on execution and taste. Elizabeth received them with all the forbearance of civility while Darcy felt more and more ashamed of his aunt's ill-breeding. At the request of the gentlemen, Elizabeth remained at the instrument till her ladyship's carriage was ready to take them all home.

After they had left, Lady Catherine spent nearly an hour criticising Mr. Collins, his wife, Miss Lucas and most of all, Elizabeth. Darcy got the impression his aunt was not pleased with Elizabeth's refusal to bow before her status like Mr. Collins did.

Soon the ladies retired to their chambers. Darcy made as if to leave as well, but was stopped by Colonel Fitzwilliam who asked if he could have a word with him.

"What about, cousin?" asked Darcy, hoping it was not about Elizabeth.

"Have I done something to offend you, Darcy?"

"No," replied he, "of course not."

"Are you quite certain? Hardly a day goes by in which you do not glare at me. It mostly occurs after I return in the afternoons."

Darcy did not answer. He didn't even know he had directed angry looks in his cousin's direction - it was being done unconsciously.

"And this evening when I was with Miss Bennet at the instrument, you seemed particularly resentful," added the Colonel.

Darcy flinched, he did not know he had been so obvious.

"Is it something to do with Miss Bennet?" pressed his cousin when Darcy did not answer.

Darcy looked at Colonel Fitzwilliam. He wanted so much to tell someone, to confide in someone of his turmoil and feelings, but he could not. The words froze in his mind. He could not, would not tell a soul. He was afraid, he was not used to sharing or revealing his feelings in case of being exposed, vulnerable and open for amusement.

Colonel Fitzwilliam waited expectantly for an answer.

Darcy sighed wearily.

"Forgive me if I decline to answer, cousin." He walked away to the stairs to his own bedroom, with Colonel Fitzwilliam staring after him.

Darcy knew that declining to answer the question practically told his cousin that Elizabeth was part of Darcy's odd behaviour lately. His cousin certainly was clever, and he wouldn't be surprised if the Colonel knew Darcy had . . . . feelings for Elizabeth. Thankfully, if he did know, he would be tactful enough not to say anything about it unless Darcy himself brought up the subject.

Darcy did not plan to.

* * *

He lay awake for sometime. He had never known love before, not love as a man feels for a woman, though he certainly knew what love between a brother and sister or father and son was. Love for Elizabeth was an entirely new feeling for him.

Darcy was rather afraid of anything outside his experience sometimes for he knew not how or what to do. With love, though he had 'lived in the world' as Elizabeth had said, he was but learning. He had to admit though, love had its pleasure as well as its pain.

 _But learning is difficult, more so when one has no teacher or example to learn from._

All he could do was try his best, and make no mistakes along the way.


	21. Chapter 21

That morning, before he left the house for the Park, he was intercepted by Colonel Fitzwilliam.

"A week has passed since our arrival here. Should I begin to make arrangements for our departure?"

 _Leave?_

"No," he curtly replied.

His cousin looked at him with surprise.

"No?"

"Not yet."

"This is surprising. Is there any reason for postponing our journey to London?"

"This visit is quite agreeable. And you must admit that the country is far superior to Town . . . " He trailed off. Why was he explaining himself to Fitzwilliam?

"I do not need to tell you my motives! I am not ready to leave and that is final!"

Colonel Fitzwilliam was surprised by this outburst, but shrugged and said, "As you please."

Darcy turned to leave.

"I just hope you do not plan on staying too long, for Lady Catherine might take that as a sign that her dearest wish might finally be granted."

He stormed out the door.

* * *

 _I do not want to spend the rest of my life with Anne!_ he thought angrily. _If I had to spend the rest of my life with someone it would be Elizabeth!_

He stopped. _That_ was a very interesting . . . and tempting question.

 _Don't be a fool. You are the master of Pemberley and she is but a gentleman's daughter of no importance in the world!_ said his mind.

 _She is important to you, and that is all that matters._ said his heart.

 _Would you degrade yourself with a marriage to her? She has no family, connections or fortune. Have you forgotten your objections to Bingley marrying her sister? These objections appear with at least equal force in you own situation._

 _Love knows nothing of rank. Why else have you delayed your departure from Rosings? It is because_ she _is here._

 _You have time - time to think about it and find the courage to propose._

* * *

Darcy remained there for some time while he thought but he did not see her. Firmly resolved that he would meet here this day, he decided to go to Hunsford itself.

He arrived and rang the bell, then amused himself by admiring the carefully tended gardens until the maid opened the door and let him in. She showed him into a room and closed the door leaving him an the room's only occupant alone together.

He had thought all the ladies to be within but to his surprise and delight, only Elizabeth was there.

"I understood you to be with Mrs. Collins and her sister," he said to cover the silence.

"Mrs. Collins and Mariah have only now gone into Hunsford village, you find me all alone today, Mr. Darcy."

 _Good._

"I beg your pardon, I would not want to intrude upon your privacy."

An uncomfortable silence followed, and Darcy sat down on a chair near the table. He rested his hat on his knee, a casual pose that covered his feelings.

 _What am I doing here?_

He could not think of anything to talk of. Thankfully, she was the first to speak.

"How very suddenly you all quitted Netherfield last November, Mr. Darcy!" said Elizabeth, "It must have been a most agreeable surprise to Mr. Bingley to see you all after him so soon; for, if I recollect right, he went but the day before. He and his sisters were well, I hope, when you left London."

"Perfectly so - I thank you."

He hoped that would be all she would say about his friend. _Do we have to talk about Bingley?_ The connection between Bingley and her sister was not one he wished to dwell upon.

"I think I have understood that Mr. Bingley has not much idea of ever returning to Netherfield again?"

"I have never heard him say so; but it is probable that he may spend very little of his time there in future. He has many friends, and he is at a time of life when friends and engagements are continually increasing."

He was trying to subdue any hopes she might still harbour for a marriage between Bingley and her sister, Jane. He doubted Bingley would wish to return to Netherfield.

"If he means to be but little at Netherfield, it would be better for the neighbourhood that he should give up the place entirely, for then we might possibly get a settled family there. But perhaps Mr. Bingley did not take the house so much for the convenience of the neighbourhood as for his own, and we must expect him to keep or quit it on the same principle."

 _Better for the neighbourhood or your sister?_

"I should not be surprised," said Darcy, "if he were to give it up, as soon as any eligible purchase offers."

Elizabeth made no answer. She showed no signs of intending to speak, so Darcy decided to find a topic of conversation - one that he had a great deal of interest in. "This seems a very comfortable house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to it when Mr. Collins first came to Hunsford."

"I believe she did - and I am sure she could not have bestowed her kindness on a more grateful object."

"Mr. Collins appears very fortunate in his choice of a wife."

 _Very fortunate that it is the former Miss Charlotte Lucas instead of_ my _Elizabeth. Thank goodness she had the sense to refuse him!_

The thought of seeing her shackled to that toady was disgusting.

"Yes, indeed; his friends may well rejoice in his having met with one of the very few sensible women who would have accepted him, or have made him happy if they had. My friend has an excellent understanding - though I am not certain that I consider her marrying Mr. Collins as the wisest thing she ever did. She seems perfectly happy, however, and in a prudential light, it is certainly a very good match for her."

Darcy could feel but slightly sorry for Mrs. Collins, but it was overwhelmed by gratitude that it was _she_ who was Mrs. Collins and not Elizabeth.

 _If I did marry her, what would she think about living so far away from her family?_

"It must be very agreeable to her to be settled within so easy a distance of her own family and friends."

 _Though with Mrs. Bennet, I would think that you could not live far enough away!_

"An easy distance do you call it? It is nearly fifty miles."

It seemed that she would miss her family a great deal, so he tried to appease her.

"And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a day's journey. Yes, I call it a very easy distance."

"I should never have considered the distance as one of the advantages of the match," cried Elizabeth. "I should never have said Mrs. Collins was settled near her family."

 _Though I suppose with her country upbringing, she would not have traveled very far from her home._

"It is a proof of your own attachment to Hertfordshire. Any thing beyond the very neighbourhood of Longbourn, I suppose, would appear far."

"I do not mean to say that a woman may not be settled too near her family. The far and the near must be relative, and depend on many varying circumstances. Where there is fortune to make the expense of traveling unimportant, distance becomes no evil. But that is not the case here. Mr. and Mrs. Collins have a comfortable income, but not such a one as will allow of frequent journeys - and I am persuaded my friend would not call herself near her family under less than half the present distance."

 _But I have the means for you to see your family tolerably often - though your mother I could see less of._

 _But why would she miss Meryton? It's inhabitants - even most of her family - are below her._

Darcy drew his chair a little towards her, and said, " _You_ cannot have a right to such very strong local attachment. You cannot have been always at Longbourn."

Elizabeth made no reply. Darcy cursed his tongue for having said too much too soon. He had to get away from her - before he lost his carefully kept control.

He got up to leave. She began to rise from her seat but he told her not to trouble herself and quickly left the house.

* * *

Darcy spent the rest of the day brooding on what to do. He was torn between his duty towards his family and his duty to himself. He could not forget or over look Elizabeth's family or situation in life. he knew that his relations - Lady Catherine especially - would strongly object to a marriage between them.

 _But do you really care?_


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22-The Calm Before the Storm

Morning found Darcy again waiting in the park for Elizabeth. He told himself he was walking because it was a lovely day to be outdoors but it was difficult to lie to his heart.

This time he did not have to wait for she was already there.

They stood there for some while, Elizabeth's face unreadable but it seemed she took no pleasure in seeing him.

"Miss Bennet," greeted he.

"Mr. Darcy."

"I hope this morning finds you well," he said for lack of anything else to say.

"I am quite well, thank you," she replied. Elizabeth continued to walk past him, so he turned and walked in the same direction. She glanced at him with raised eyebrows, made as if to say something but silenced and did not protest.

They walked in an awkward silence - Darcy was too confused and nervous as to what to say to the woman with whom he was in love with.

Racking his mind for something to say, Darcy said, "Are you enjoying your stay at Hunsford?"

She looked at him, as if trying to determine his thoughts.

"Yes I am. I have not seen my friend for some time, nor am I likely to see her after I leave. I doubt she will be leaving Kent for some time." The lady sighed. "She is now married and it seems married women have little time for visiting."

"And what is your opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Collins' happiness?"

She looked at him strangely.

He suddenly realised he knew very little about her. He knew her, but he did not know her.

"I mean, with your idea of marriage in general, is it a good match?"

"Did I not say, when you came to Hunsford, that it is a very good match for her?"

"Yes, but what is _your_ opinion?"

"A marriage, where neither party can respect the other, it cannot be agreeable."

Darcy knew he held a great respect for her . . .

"A marriage which has love, respect and security is best. I believe Mr. and Mrs. Collins' situation has at least _one_ of these."

Darcy imagined a marriage between them - would it have all that he wished?

"Mr. Darcy."

"Oh . . . yes, Miss Bennet?"

"We are at the gate outside the Parsonage."

"Of course."

He was quite unwilling to leave.

"Good day, sir," said Elizabeth. She curtsied and opened the gate.

He felt a pang of regret as she walked up the path.

"Farewell . . . Elizabeth," he whispered under his breath.

She was to far away to hear him.

* * *

He visited the Parsonage with Colonel Fitzwilliam frequently. He rarely spoke during these visits, only for propriety's sake rather than from any wish to talk.

One of the things he was worried about was did Elizabeth care at all for his cousin?

He watched the two carefully, laughing and talking amongst themselves. It took great strength of will not to violently protest every time they whispered to each other. He was envious of his cousin's ease in speaking to her.

 _Does she love him?_

As time passed, Darcy became convinced that though Elizabeth certainly enjoyed the Colonel's company, she was not in love. Also, had not his cousin assured him that he had no plans in that direction? Richard Fitzwilliam needed a wife with fortune and Elizabeth did not have that.

With that matter concluded, he turned his mind back to the problem of should he or shouldn't he marry Elizabeth?

All the reasons why _not_ were clear. All the reasons why he _should_ were not so clear but much more powerful. Actually, it was only reason - love.

Darcy looked at her again. The way she smiled, the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed was enough to make him grip his chair tightly to retain his control.

He forced his eyes to move and as they searched the room, he realised Mrs. Collins was watching him.

Darcy knew Mrs. Collins was a observant, practical woman and he feared she had noticed his attentions to Elizabeth. What if she told Elizabeth of it?

 _God damn it, does she know what agony she is putting me through?_

* * *

He lay awake most of the night trying to determine what to do.

Darcy had realised that he could not imagine his life without her. Whatever paths he imagined his life taking, he wanted with all his heart and soul to take those paths with Elizabeth at his side.

 _Then propose to her before you leave._

His heart froze with fear. To admit his love to himself was one thing - to say it aloud to the woman he loved was quite another. Never in his life had he exposed his innermost feelings to anyone or opened himself to hurt and ridicule. What if she said no? How much would that hurt?

 _Come now, why would she refuse you? No woman in her right mind could refuse you. There is no reason why she should not - in fact there is every reason in the world why she should._

That is very true . . . .

* * *

"Shall we leave tomorrow, cousin?" asked Colonel Fitzwilliam on Tuesday.

"No. Let us wait to Saturday, shall we?"

" _Another_ delay? 'Tis rather unusual. Have you suddenly developed a fondness for Lady Catherine's company? and Anne? Or have you resigned yourself to matrimony and plan to make a proposal before we leave Kent?" he jested.

 _A proposal - How does he know I am planning to propose to Elizabeth?_ thought Darcy. Before he could return a sharp reply to his cousin, he realised Colonel Fitzwilliam was referring to Anne.

He cringed from the thought of telling Elizabeth exactly what he felt for her.

Darcy realised his cousin was looking at him strangely.

"I need time, Fitzwilliam."

The question, "Time for what?" was undoubtedly going through the Colonel's mind but Darcy left the house before his cousin could ask it.

* * *

He needed peace to think, which was impossible to find at Rosings with his aunt there, so he again the next morning went to the walk. It had the added bonus of meeting Elizabeth as well.

Darcy walked down the path at a fast pace, deep in thought.

 _What do I say in a proposal? Do I tell her how I love her, my struggles in overcoming my objections?_

He wanted so much to ask her to marry him, and yet couldn't find the courage to do so.

Not knowing where he was going, he walked into Miss Bennet before he realised she was there.

"Oh! Miss Bennet, I do apologise," he said, half-bowing to cover his shock and feeling of pleasure when he had touched her. Though he knew such thoughts were scandalous, he did not reject them.

Elizabeth did not reply but bent down to retrieve her bonnet which had fallen to the ground. He also bent down and picked it up. He handed it to her and she accepted it with a nod of thanks.

They stood there for some minutes afterwards, just looking at each other. Darcy knew this was the time to speak, but the words would not come out.

"I seem to be meeting you quite often in the Park, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth finally.

"It is my aunt's property; I am able to come here whenever I please. Whoever stays at Rosings has leave to go wherever he or she wishes. Would you not like that?"

"I would. But I am not staying in Lady Catherine's house."

"That may change."

A light blush spread over her as he spoke. He could not read her expression, but she seemed slightly embarrassed. She smiled at him and said, "Whatever you mean I do not pretend to know. Besides, it is unlikely I shall be coming to Kent again."

"You may, sooner than you expect."

She did not reply to that.

 _Have I been too obvious? Surely she must know by now!_

Elizabeth resumed walking, and Darcy unconsciously turned and walked with her. She stopped and looked at him.

"Do you plan on accompanying me to the gate again?"

He did not want to say yes in case his meaning was misinterpreted.

"No . . . not quite."

Apparently satisfied with this answer, she continued her walk. Darcy kept pace beside her, not close, but not far either.

They didn't speak for much of the walk - a few formalities but nothing further. Darcy was quite content with that arrangement - he was content with looking at the woman he hoped would be his wife.

* * *

On Friday afternoon, Colonel Fitzwilliam was about to leave for his annual tour of the park. Darcy was grateful for his absence as it gave him the peace to think.

 _You are leaving tomorrow. You cannot put off your departure any longer - you must ask her today!_

Finally resolved on doing so, it only remained to figure out how to go about it.

 _Be honest with her. You are doing her a great favour, a great honour. Tell her you know that you are going against the wishes of your family and duty, but you don't care._

 _This is the most practical offer anyone has and will give her. It would be insane for her to say no to you. She should be honoured a man of your position is even thinking of matrimony to her._

 _You have thought over this carefully. You know what you are doing. You know that your proposal might seem rash, irresponsible, even juvenile, you know your family will be angry, that you will be frowned upon, that your social positions are very different. You have considered all these things and you find that your love for her is so overwhelming that all these objections are insignificant. Tell her all your objections so she will understand, tell her how much you admire and love her._

Darcy smiled to himself as he looked out the window towards Hunsford.

Now there was only the problem of getting Elizabeth alone to ask her.

He heard voices in the hall way. He looked out to see that the party from Hunsford had arrived. He searched for Elizabeth - maybe he could ask her to go for a walk outside.

Darcy did not see her. There was Mr. and Mrs. Collins, Miss Lucas and his cousin but no Elizabeth.

"There you are Darcy," said the Colonel. "Miss Bennet will not be joining us here tonight . . . "

Mr. Collins interrupted, "Yes, I am afraid, my dear sir, that my fair cousin has been taken ill with a headache and so has remained at my humble abode and she sends her regrets that she cannot join us this evening . . . "

Darcy did not hear any more of Mr. Collins' speech.

Elizabeth was at Hunsford - alone.

"Fitzwilliam," he said absently. "Make my apologies to Lady Catherine - I have a matter of business to attend to."

He turned, took his hat and walking stick and left the house before Fitzwilliam could ask where he was going.

Outside Rosings, Darcy took a deep breath, then set out for the Hunsford Parsonage, where Elizabeth Bennet was alone.

 **15 reviews and I'll forget work and have the proposal chapter up tomorrow morning.**


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23-Love, Hate, Pride, and Prejudice

Darcy arrived at the door of the Hunsford Parsonage, his heart beating wildly. In a few moments he would look upon Elizabeth's face and tell her that he loved her. He would ask her for her hand in marriage. In his mind he imagined his aunt's fury, his cousin's surprise and Elizabeth's delight.

Before ringing the bell, he paused to check his appearance in the window. He looked at himself, took a deep breath, then rang the bell.

The door was opened by the maid. In a lowered voice he asked to see Elizabeth. The maid nodded then led him to a room.

"In here, sir," said the maid. Darcy took no notice but walked into the room. The door shut behind him.

"Forgive me, I hope you are feeling better," said he automatically.

Elizabeth stood there and stared at him. Darcy did not look at her, but went to the mantle, then turned to face her.

"I thank you, I am," replied Elizabeth quietly. Darcy wondered if her headache had put her into a bad mood. But that did not matter - he had news that would no doubt lighten her spirits immensely.

 _Tell her._

The moment he told his tongue to move, it froze. His courage failed him.

He turned to her. She did not smile.

"Would you not sit down?" she continued.

Darcy heard her speak but the words did not register. In the end, she took her own advice and sat down on the chair beside the table.

He stared at the clock, trying to think of how to begin. He walked in an agitated manner around the room. To stop himself from lapping the room, he sat down uncomfortably on the edge of the chair, but no sooner than he had done so, he sprang up again and paced the room again. Pausing, he looked at her, panic rising slowly at her puzzled and impatient expression. Darcy drew breath to speak. Never in his whole life had he willfully admitted his most intimate feelings to anyone, and he was finding it extremely difficult to say what he had kept close to his heart for such a long time. His courage failed him and the moment passed without him saying a word. Nervously he twisted his ring.

The tense silence grew, if that were possible, more tense. Darcy stared at Elizabeth and stood in front of her.

 _Just say it!_

Finally, adrenaline and tension forced him to blurt out,

"In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

The moment the words were out of his mouth he felt a profound relief flood over him. He had kept his love inside him for so long that it felt relieving to finally say it out loud.

After pausing for a moment, feeling very pleased with himself, he looked at the lady to whom he had declared his love to.

The lady herself was staring with an expression of total astonishment upon her fair countenance. She stared, coloured and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement, and he continued with his proposal.

"In declaring myself thus I am fully aware that I will be going expressly against the wishes of my family and friends and I hardly need add, my own better judgment. The relative situation of our families is such that any alliance between us must be regarded as a highly reprehensible situation."

 _Might as well let her know what she is in for in our marriage._

He paused for breath and did not look at her, concentrating on the words rather than their effect on Elizabeth.

"Indeed in a rational manner I cannot regard it such myself _but_ it cannot be helped."

Darcy was now struggling for words. What else could he say apart from the clichéd?

"Almost from the earliest moments of our acquaintance I have come to feel for you a . . . . passionate . . . admiration and . . . regard, which despite my struggles has overcome every rational objection and I _beg_ you, most fervently to relieve my suffering and consent to be my wife."

He refused to say any more. If he had, it might give her the impression that she was coming into this marriage as an equal, instead of a sub-ordinate. He had said enough, and now all that remained was to wait for her agreement.

After a few moments silence, she spoke, quietly and calmly.

"In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however unequally they may be returned. It is natural that obligation should be felt, and if I could feel gratitude, I would now thank you. But I cannot - I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. I am sorry to have occasioned pain to any one. It has been most unconsciously done, however, and I hope will be of short duration. The feelings which, you tell me, have long prevented the acknowledgment of your regard, can have little difficulty in overcoming it after this explanation."

Darcy, who was leaning against the mantle-piece with his eyes fixed on her face, seemed to catch her words with no less resentment than surprise. Her words did not register; he did not at first comprehend them.

 _What?! How dare she - !_

His complexion became pale with anger, and the disturbance of his mind was visible in every feature. He was struggling for the appearance of composure, and would not open his lips, till he believed himself to have attained it.

 _She cannot be serious! She cannot do this to me!_

At length, in a voice of forced calmness, he said,

"And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little _endeavour_ at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance."

"I might as well enquire," replied she, "why, with so evident a design of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character? Was not this some excuse for incivility, if I was uncivil?" Her voice began to rise. "But I have other provocations. You know I have. Had not my own feelings decided against you, had they been indifferent, or had they even been favourable, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept the man, who has been the means of ruining, perhaps for ever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?"

 _What on earth - ! How did she know about that?_

Darcy changed colour; but the emotion was short, and he listened without attempting to interrupt her while she continued, though this decision was more from the shock the sudden knowledge of her immovable dislike of him produced.

"I have every reason in the world to think ill of you. No motive can excuse the unjust and ungenerous part you acted there. You dare not, you cannot deny that you have been the principal, if not the only means of dividing them from each other, of exposing one to the censure of the world for caprice and instability, the other to its derision for disappointed hopes, and involving them both in misery of the acutest kind."

He listened with an air which proved him wholly unmoved by any feeling of remorse. He even looked at her with a smile of affected incredulity. Why should he feel remorse for his actions? His separation of the two was necessary and he was actually proud of the fact that he had done it with so little fuss to anyone.

"Can you deny that you have done it?" she repeated.

"I have no wish to deny it. I did every thing in my power to separate my friend from your sister, or that I rejoice in my success. Towards _him_ I have been kinder than towards myself."

 _I do not need to explain myself to you, foolish woman!_

"But it is not merely this affair," she continued, "on which my dislike is founded. Long before it had taken place, my opinion of you was decided when I heard Mr. Wickham's story of your dealings with him."

 _WICKHAM?! What does_ he _have to do with any of this?_

"On this subject, what can you have to say? In what imaginary act of friendship can you here defend yourself? or under what misrepresentation, can you here impose upon others?"

"You take an eager interest in that gentleman's concerns," said Darcy in a less tranquil tone, and with a heightened colour.

 _No, this cannot be happening! First Georgiana, now Elizabeth has fallen under his spell!_

"Who that knows what his misfortunes have been, can help feeling an interest in him?"

"His misfortunes!" repeated Darcy contemptuously; "yes, his misfortunes have been great indeed."

"And of your infliction," cried Elizabeth with energy. "You have reduced him to his present state of poverty, comparative poverty. You have withheld the advantages, which you must know to have been designed for him."

 _What is this nonsense?!_

"You have deprived the best years of his life, of that independence which was no less his due than his desert. You have done all this! and yet you can treat the mention of his misfortunes with contempt and ridicule!"

He was shocked at hearing that she believed Wickham's account instead of his. Anger as he had felt only in Ramsgate last summer, flared up.

"And this," cried Darcy, as he walked with quick steps across the room, "is your opinion of me! This is the estimation in which you hold me! I thank you for explaining it so fully. My faults, according to this calculation, are heavy indeed!" Finally finding control of his emotions, he realised a reason for her rejection of him.

 _Her bitter accusations are made out of a resentment of my voicing the objections to a marriage with her._

A desire to lash out at the one who had caused hurt to him rose.

"But perhaps," added he, stopping in his walk, and turning towards her, "these offenses might have been overlooked, had not your pride been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design." Standing above her he continued, "These bitter accusations might have been suppressed, had I with greater policy concealed my struggles, and flattered you into the belief of my being impelled by unqualified, unalloyed inclination - by reason, by reflection, by every thing. But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence. Nor am I ashamed of the feelings I related. They were natural and just. Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections? To congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?"

Elizabeth had turned away from him, but now she turned to face him.

"You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner."

Darcy started, stunned.

"You could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it!"

The shocks were coming fast and thick. His mind reeled with every blow. He could not register what she had said - it was so impossible and unbelievable to him.

"From the very beginning, from the first moment I may almost say, of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form that ground-work of disapprobation, on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry."

Darcy winced with every harsh word. He could not believe it. In a space of a few minutes, his world had been turned upside down. Doubts about himself that he had never thought of before began to surface in his mind. Was her picture of him accurate?

 _The last man in the world whom she could ever marry._

The words hurt deeply.

His control of the situation (if he had ever had it) was lost. Humiliated, he resolved on leaving that very moment.

"You have said quite enough, madam," he said coldly, "I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness."

And with the shreds of his dignity that he still retained he curtly bowed and let himself out of the room, his mind in chaos and plagued by doubt. His head hurt, ringing with her vicious words. But the worst was his heart. He felt a pain he had never known, cutting mercilessly through him like a dagger to the heart. In all of his twenty-eight years, he had never known pain such as this.

 **A big thanks to all my wonderful readers and reviewers!**


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24-Telling the Truth

Darcy stormed out the Hunsford Parsonage, his mind reeling. The events of the last few minutes were too unbelievable to comprehend. A rejection! His proposal of marriage to Elizabeth had been rejected! But that wasn't the only shock. More astonishing were Elizabeth's reasons for refusing him.

He felt a rush of anger at being humiliated by the woman he - no _used_ to - love. As he walked towards Rosings, he thought over her words.

 _Was_ he proud and arrogant? Elizabeth was the sharpest lady he had ever met and it was worth at least _considering_ her words. He reviewed his manner of proposal and winced. Upon reflection she seemed to describe him very well. Her words rang in his ears.

 _You are the last man in the world whom I could_ ever _marry. Did you think any consideration would tempt me? Your arrogance, you conceit and your selfish disdain for the feelings of others._ Darcy leapt up the steps to the house then slowed. _My opinion of you was decided when I heard Mr. Wickham's story of your dealings with him._

"Well, at least in that I may defend myself," he muttered aloud. It was actually the _only_ thing that he could find fault with. Everything else Elizabeth had said of him was looking fairly accurate.

Darcy winced when he remembered what he had said to her.

 _Did you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections? To congratulate myself on the hope of relations whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?_

When one thought about it, if that was the way he had treated her during their acquaintance, perhaps her opinion of him wasn't so surprising. Darcy stood in the doorway, unwilling to go further where his relations were talking. But Elizabeth's last rebuke - oh that stung like nothing else she said did.

 _You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy. The mode of your declaration merely spared me the concern I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner._

 _But not everything she said was correct,_ he thought. _She has misunderstood - or has perhaps been misinformed about Wickham, and as for Bingley . . ._

"Who's there?" demanded his aunt from the sitting-room. Darcy turned and saw his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam walking to greet him.

"Darcy, we quite despaired of you - " began he before he was interrupted by Lady Catherine saying,

"Is that my nephew? Where have you been? Let him come in and see me!"

Company was the last thing Darcy wanted at the moment. He needed solitude to think over what had just happened and nurse his wounded pride.

"No, if you will forgive me . . . . you will forgive me . . . " he said absently. He started up the stairs towards his room.

"Darcy, you are unwell?" inquired the Colonel.

"I am very well, thank you. I . . . I have a pressing matter of business to attend to . . . . " He resumed his ascent. "Make my apologies to Lady Catherine, Fitzwilliam." He quickly climbed the stairs, went to his chamber and locked the door.

* * *

He flung his hat and walking stick into a corner and took a deep breath. Though Miss Bennet's assessment of him had probably been accurate, there were some things that he could explain. His dealings with Bingley and Wickham were the accusations he could defend himself against.

 _I cannot face her, not after this evening. I doubt she would be even willing to listen to me._ But he would have to swallow his pride and tell her the truth no matter what.

Darcy soon came to a decision, went to the desk and pulled out pen and paper.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet, Be not alarmed, Madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments, or renewal of those offers, which were this evening, so disgusting to you. I write without any intention of paining you, or humbling myself, by dwelling on wishes, which, for the happiness of both, cannot be too soon forgotten; and the effort which the formation and the perusal of this letter must occasion should have been spared, had not my character required it to be written and read. You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I demand your attention; your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly . . . .

With this introduction, Darcy put down his pen and leaned back in his chair, wondering what exactly to tell her.

. . . . but I must be allowed to defend myself against the charges laid at my door, in particular those relating to Mr. Wickham which if were true, would indeed be grievous; but which are wholly without foundation and which I can only refute by laying before you his connection with my family . . . .

He got up and walked to the window and watched the fading light Outside, birds were singing which did not lighten his mood at all. In his mind he mentally wrote his letter to Elizabeth Bennet.

. . . . Of what he has _particularly_ accused me, I am ignorant; but of the truth of what I shall relate, I can summon more than one witness of undoubted veracity. Mr. Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who had the charge of our family estates, and my own father was fond of him and held him in high esteem. We played together as boys . . . .

Darcy thought back to his childhood. He and George Wickham had been the best of friends and Wickham had been his only companion before Georgiana's birth. He bitterly smiled at the memory. Their favourite pastime had been fishing - down by the river under the tree was where the fish usually were. Wickham had fallen into the river once, and he, without thinking, had dived in to save him, quite forgetting that they could not swim. Luckily a servant had been on hand to rescue them and after that incident his father had decided that they should both learn to swim.

But that was many years ago, and his relations with Wickham had drastically changed. And Wickham had persuaded Elizabeth that his lies were true. Darcy went back to the desk, removed his jacket and began writing furiously.

. . . . After his father's early death my father supported him at school and afterwards at Cambridge. most important assistance, as his own father, always poor from the extravagance of his wife, would have been unable to give him a gentleman's education . . .

Darcy paused and thought back to that day when he had finally acknowledged that Wickham was no longer the honourable friend of his childhood. He had been walking back to their rooms at Cambridge after lectures . . . .

. . . . He hoped he would make the church the profession . . . .

Arriving outside the door he had thought he heard some rather suspicious noises . . . .

. . . . But by then George Wickham's habits were as dissolute as his manners were engaging . . .

He had flung the door open to find his friend half-dressed kissing a young lady who was sitting in his lap, also half-dressed. Upon his arrival, the girl sprang up and rushed to Wickham's bedroom and locked the door. Darcy leaned on the door, shocked but not surprised. Wickham slowly rose out of his seat and defiantly looked at him.

. . . .It is many, many years since I first began to think of him in a very different manner. The vicious propensities - the want of principle, which he was careful to guard from the knowledge of his best friend, could not escape the observation of a young man of nearly the same age with himself, and who had opportunities of seeing him in unguarded moments, which Mr. Darcy could not have. Here again I shall give you pain - to what degree you only can tell . . . .

Darcy was painfully aware that Wickham's lies could be too deeply rooted in Elizabeth's mind for her to take notice of his information. He knew only too well what Wickham's charms were capable of, and it was very likely that Elizabeth believed herself to be in love with him.

But you should at least try to warn her. It would not be a gentlemanly thing to do if you did nothing to stop Wickham.

He loosened his collar, removed his cravat and continued writing.

. . . . My own, excellent father died five years ago . . . .

That memory was too painful to dwell on for long. The candle was almost burned out - Darcy paused for a moment, rubbed his hand and replaced it. The room was getting rather warm so he half-unbuttoned his shirt.

. . . . and his attachment to Mr. Wickham was to the last so steady that he desired that a valuable family living might be his as soon as it was vacant. There was also a legacy of one thousand pounds. Mr. Wickham declined any interest in the church as a career and received three thousand pounds instead of the living. He expressed and intention of studying the law . . . .

Darcy remembered that day well. It would be last time he would see Wickham for three years. He had to force himself to write the cheque for three thousand pounds, not because he was unwilling to give such a large sum away but because he was certain that Wickham would spend it unwisely. He handed it to Wickham, who had been pacing the room, a smile on his face.

"Thank you," said Wickham softly. Darcy did not reply, but fiddled with his pen. Wickham went to the door to let himself out.

"I am most exceedingly obliged," he added. He bowed mockingly and left.

Darcy wished it had been forever.

. . . All connection between us seemed now dissolved. Being now free from all restraint, his life was one of idleness and dissipation . . .

His hand was cramping, he stopped again and looked back on what he had written. It was his second sheet of paper and it was beginning to fill. Darcy glanced around the room, dimly aware it was very late and a servant had entered without his noticing leaving a tray of food. Having no appetite as of yet, he continued.

. . . . I thought too ill of him to invite him to Pemberley, or admit his society in town. In town, I believe, he chiefly lived, but his studying the law was a mere pretense, and being now free from all restraint, his life was a life of idleness and dissipation. For about three years I heard little of him; but on the decease of the incumbent of the living which had been designed for him, he applied to me again by letter for the presentation. His circumstances, he assured me, and I had no difficulty in believing it, were exceedingly bad. He had found the law a most unprofitable study, and was now absolutely resolved on being ordained, if I would present him to the living in question - of which he trusted there could be little doubt, as he was well assured that I had no other person to provide for, and I could not have forgotten my revered father's intentions. You will hardly blame me for refusing to comply with this entreaty, or for resisting every repetition of it. His resentment was in proportion to the distress of his circumstances - and he was doubtless as violent in his abuse of me to others, as in his reproaches to myself. After this period, every appearance of acquaintance was dropped . . . .

How Darcy wish it had been reality, and not appearance!

. . . . How he lived I know not. But last summer, our paths crossed again under the most painful circumstances, which I myself would wish to forget. and which no obligation less than the present should induce me to unfold to any human being.

For a moment he paused, wondering at the wisdom of revealing Georgiana's near-disaster at Ramsgate to Elizabeth. Would she tell? No, he decided. He knew her well (but not well enough to predict her response to his proposal obviously) to know she would not tell. And this, he told himself, if nothing else does, will hopefully persuade her of Wickham's deviousness.

. . . . Having said thus much, I feel no doubt of your secrecy. My sister, Georgiana, who is more than ten years my junior was left to the guardianship of Colonel Fitzwilliam and myself. About a year ago, she was taken from school, to Ramsgate and placed in the care of a Mrs. Younge, in whose character we were most unhappily deceived. And thither also went Mr. Wickham, undoubtedly by design. She was persuaded to believe herself in love, and to consent to an elopement. She was then but fifteen years old . . . .

His grip on his pen tightened with anger at Wickham and Mrs. Younge. He had _trusted_ her with his sister and she betrayed his trust! And Wickham! At the time he had thought his former friend would have the honour to not take advantage of his former relations with him. But no. His trust in people had declined noticeably since that day.

. . . . A day or two before the intended elopement, I joined them unexpectedly . . .

 _And I thank God I did._

The memories of that day were as clear in his mind as if it had happened yesterday. He had climbed out of the carriage and gone to look at the sea from the cliff. To his shock and horror, he had seen Wickham touching Georgiana's arm in a manner that was _not_ gentlemanly and whispering in her ear. Then Georgiana had looked up to see him with an expression of relief on her face. She had run into his arms and poured out the entire story.

 _"I won't do it, I won't leave you," said Georgiana._

He had realised Wickham's reasons for gaining Georgiana's affections. Darcy told Georgiana who asked Mrs. Younge for the truth and when Wickham laughed at her gullibility, she began to cry.

. . . . Unable to support the idea of grieving a brother, to whom she looked up to almost as a father, she acknowledged the whole plan to me at once. You may imagine what I felt, and how I acted . . . .

He saw Mrs. Younge first, and discharged her from his service. Then he saw Wickham. Darcy remembered how disappointed he was, with Wickham and with the fact that their friendship had become hatred.

. . . . Regard for my sister's credit and feelings prevented any public exposure, and Mr. Wickham left the place immediately and relinquished his object which of course was my sister's fortune of thirty thousand pounds. His second object must have been to revenge himself on me. Had he been successful, his revenge would have been complete indeed. This, madam is a faithful narrative of all my dealings with Mr. Wickham.

Darcy slammed down his pen and leaned back in his chair, exhausted, both physically and mentally. He rested his head for a while, wishing he could sleep. But rest was too far away.

 _What if she does not believe me?_ Then he realised something, picked up his pen and continued writing.

. . . . and for its truth I can appeal to the testimony of Colonel Fitzwilliam, who knows every particular in these transactions. I know not under what form of falsehood Mr. Wickham imposed himself on you but I hope you will acquit me of cruelty towards him.

The explanation of his dealings with Wickham was finished. But the other matter of Bingley and Jane was difficult. According to Elizabeth, Jane was _not_ indifferent to Bingley, but did in fact have feelings for his friend. Darcy groaned - what hurt had he done to Jane who was the most angelic creature in the world?

 _I cannot blame myself. I observed Jane and my observations told me that she was indifferent. Perhaps I misunderstood her expressions - if so I have not acted maliciously but labored under a misapprehension. Surely Elizabeth cannot blame me for something unintentional._

He picked up the pen again and continued with grim determination.

. . . . The other charge leveled at me, is that regardless of the sentiments of either party, I detached Mr. Bingley from your sister. I have no wish to deny this, nor can I blame myself for any of my actions in this matter. I had not long been in Hertfordshire when I saw that Bingley admired your sister to any other woman in the country. But it was not until the dance at Netherfield that I suspected a serious attachment . . . .

Darcy thought back to the Netherfield Ball. It was there he had first acknowledged that perhaps Elizabeth did mean more to him than he cared to admit, and when he first had the pleasure of dancing with her . . .

 _Stop it. Keep your mind on the business at hand._

. . . . His partiality was clear - but though she received his attentions with pleasure, I did not detect any symptom of peculiar regard. The serenity of her countenance convinced me her heart was not likely to be easily touched. I did not believe her to be indifferent because I wished it - I believed it on impartial conviction. If _you_ have not been mistaken here, _I_ must have been in error. Your superior knowledge of your sister must make the latter probable - if it be so, if I have been misled by error, to inflict pain on her, your resentment has not been unreasonable . . . .

He stopped again in his writing. The next part he intended to write would in all probability, insult Elizabeth and cause her pain. But Darcy had to be truthful and honest.

. . . . As to my objections to the marriage, (which this evening I acknowledge to have required the utmost force of passion to put aside in my own case), the situation of your family, though objectionable, was nothing in comparison to the total want of propriety so frequently betrayed by your mother, your younger sisters, and even occasionally, your father . . . .

It was not difficult to recollect Mrs. Bennet's loud and vulgar conversation at the dinner table, Mary Bennet's untrained singing or her father's obvious humiliation of her. Elizabeth's embarrassment at the youngest Bennet girls dancing around the room with an officer's sabre was all too fresh in his memory.

. . . . Pardon me - it pains me offend you. But amidst your concern for the defects of your nearest relations, and your displeasure at this representation of them, let me give you consolation to consider that, to have conducted yourselves so as to avoid any share of the like censure, is praise no less generously bestowed on you and your eldest sister. My friend left Netherfield for London the following day, as you, I am certain, remember, with the design of soon returning. The part which I acted is now to be explained. - His sisters' uneasiness had been equally excited with my own; our coincidence of feeling was soon discovered; and, alike sensible that no time was to be lost in detaching their brother, we shortly resolved on joining him directly in London. We accordingly went - and there I engaged in the office of pointing out to my friend, the certain evils of his choice of your sister as a prospective bride. I described, and enforced them earnestly. But, however this remonstrance might have staggered or delayed his determination, I do not suppose that it would ultimately have prevented the marriage, had it not been seconded by the assurance, which I hesitated not in giving, of your sister's indifference. He had before believed her to return his affection with sincere, if not with equal, regard. - But Bingley has great natural modesty, with a stronger dependence on my judgment than on his own. It was not difficult to convince him of your sister's indifference to him . . . .

Darcy thought for a moment. If her had not interfered with Bingley's life then he and Jane would probably be happily married. But it was not so, and Darcy had instead kept his friend from the best of happiness. Perhaps it was not right for him to interfere so much with the life of his friend.

. . . . I cannot blame myself for having done this much. There is but one part of my conduct in the affair on which I do not reflect with satisfaction. That is I concealed from him your sister's being in town. I knew it myself, as it was known to Miss Bingley, but her brother is even yet ignorant of it. That they might have met without ill consequence is, perhaps, probable; but his regard did not appear to me enough extinguished for him to see her without some danger. Perhaps this concealment, this disguise, was beneath me. It is done, however, and it was done for the best. On this subject I have nothing more to say, no other apology to offer. If I have wounded your sister's feelings, it was unknowingly done.

There was nothing more he could say to her. He could not blame himself for separating Jane and Bingley but he still felt a pang of guilt.

You may possibly wonder why all this was not told you last night. But I was not then master enough of myself to know what could or ought to be revealed. I shall endeavour to find some opportunity of putting this letter in your hands in the course of the morning. I will only add, God bless you. Fitzwilliam Darcy.

He put down the pen and stared at the sheet. The paper was scarcely seen for the amount of writing on it.

 _God bless you. Why did I write that?_

He was too tired to think any more. Trying to make as little noise as possible, he readied himself for bed. When the candle was blown out and he was waiting for sleep to come, only then did the full impact of the day's events come crashing down on him. The woman whom he had loved for so long hated him. Darcy would not be triumphantly bringing her to Pemberley or visiting Georgiana, or seeing Miss Bingley's face go green with envy.

Depression fell upon him and though he desperately wished for sleep, sleep would not come. He lay there, listening to his mind replay the entire scene in the Hunsford Parsonage. In his mind's eye he watched her face reflect her disgust and resentment.

In one blow his dreams and heart had been broken.

How long he lay there, half-awake and half-asleep he did not know. Finally abandoning all attempts to sleep he got up and relit the candle. Darcy drew the curtains and saw that the east was just turning light.

He looked at the desk. It was covered in writing materials and sheets of paper not yet sealed. He sat down and slowly folded it, until he could no longer see his writing. Then he sealed it, and on the front he wrote, 'Miss Elizabeth Bennet'

The dawn was fast approaching. Darcy went to the basin and washed his face. The water was cold but it certainly woke him up. He sighed, put out the candle and got dressed, all before the house had even begun to stir.

* * *

He quickly went to the Park. Knowing that Elizabeth usually took a morning walk along her favourite walk, he decided to wait for her there. He did not know how to face her. He certainly would not let her see how much her words had hurt him, or how humiliated he was by her. All he was doing was pointing out the errors in her judgment - nothing more. He was not trying to explain himself to win her good opinion.

Darcy waited for some time without seeing her. Perhaps she was somewhere else.

He wandered to the edge of the Park and stood under a tree while searching the Park.

Suddenly he heard a soft tap of a show on wood. He turned to see Elizabeth, also turning and walking quickly away.

"Miss Bennet," he called as expressionlessly as possible.

She turned to face him without any sign of pleasure.

"Mr. Darcy."

"I have been walking in the grove some time in the hope of meeting you. Will you do me the honour of reading that letter?" he asked with haughty composure. He curtly bowed and walked quickly away into the trees.

* * *

He wandered for some time, not really taking heed of his surroundings, lost in his own thoughts.

He had to forget her. It was unlikely they would ever meet again, for they would each make a conscious effort to avoid each other.

And he had to stop loving her.

Darcy collapsed under a large tree. That was the crux of it. He still loved her. And no matter how hard he would try to forget her he never would. When he saw her this morning he knew that he still, and always would love her.

Not since the death of his father had Darcy wept. But under the cool shade he silently let the tears fall.

 **I have several things to address. Specifically the Guest users, some of whom have been spamming my story with comments so ridiculous it takes all I have in me to be kind and refrain from laughing.**

 **Firstly: it is not a crime to make up scenes and thoughts in _fanfiction._ Do you now realize how ridiculous that sounds, to say that you're not allowed to put in a particular scene because it "never happened in the book or the movie?" The intelligent level of the person making that comment must not be very high. Fanfiction is designed for fans of a particular book, movie, or storyline to elaborate on the plot given for the entertainment of the authors and of others. I can't even comprehend how that would even register in the mind. **

**Even when you're not talking about fanfiction, when you're talking about _books,_ authors make up stuff all the time. Let me remind you, Pride and Prejudice is in the Public Domain. For example, in The Secret Diary of Lydia Bennet (I highly recommend it, by the way), half the book is basically "copied and pasted from the original" while the rest is inner musings, perspectives, and made up scenes. It is even switched around totally to contradict the original plot by making Lydia run away from Brighton because she is chasing after the comte she fell in love with, Alaric, with Wickham who was there to _help_ her. So you see, there are _published books_ that are _making money_ that have far more scandalous differences than scenes of Darcy taking a bath or meeting Elizabeth after her walk. And these books have every right to make up whatever they want, and even make money off these books, because it's in the Public Domain. Therefore, I see no reason why _fanfiction_ should not fall under the same restrictions. Technically, it is not a crime to forget a disclaimer, either, but I added one in gratitude for Jane Austen and her incredible works.**

 **My point: If you do not enjoy reading my story, and only do so to criticize, please just refrain from reading it. I see no reason why you should read it if you find it so unenjoyable. I encourage you to spend your time trying to write your own fanfiction instead of spending it disparaging others'. Thank you.**


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25~ Leaving Rosings - And Other Things - Behind

How long he sat there under the tree he did not know. When he decided to return to the house he estimated it to be about ten in the morning.

The Park was peaceful and pleasant but none of this lifted Darcy's mood. Soon, the facade of Rosings was seen through the trees. On the steps was a familiar figure.

When he arrived at the top of the stairs, he did not bid Colonel Fitzwilliam a good morning but moved as if to walk past him.

"Where on earth have you been, Darcy?" inquired the Colonel, "We woke up to find that were gone. I assumed a walk in the Park but at such an early hour? and for so long?"

"We're leaving," said Darcy without looking at his cousin.

"I beg your pardon? Today?"

"Yes, as soon as possible."

"Patience, we are already leaving tomorrow." Fitzwilliam looked at Darcy strangely. "What is the rush? You have delayed our departure twice already and now all of a sudden you want to leave as soon as possible?"

Darcy glared at his cousin, but finally conceded that as they were leaving on Saturday anyway, he'd might as well wait.

* * *

The two gentlemen went to see their aunt and cousin, who were sitting in the drawing-room.

"Good morning, Aunt, cousin," said the Colonel gaily. Darcy said not a word but got a cup of tea and went to stare out of the window.

Tomorrow he would leave Kent and Elizabeth behind. It was more than possible that they would never see each other again. He had not wish to and he imagined she felt the same way.

Darcy knew he could never love anyone else. Elizabeth had captured his heart so completely that could never get it back. He knew that he could not force himself to marry without love and it would fall to Georgiana to produce an heir for Pemberley.

But what about the things Elizabeth told him - to his face? What should he do about that? Forget them and get on with his life?

"We shall be quite desolate without you, Darcy - Anne especially," said Lady Catherine to him.

Darcy ignored that remark and merely said, "We shall return next year, Aunt."

There was a silence until Colonel Fitzwilliam said, "I think we should say farewell to the Collinses and Miss Bennet before we leave. What say you, Darcy?"

His heart froze for a moment. He wanted to see her one last time before he left - but he did not want to face her either.

Despite Lady Catherine's protests, Colonel Fitzwilliam got up and began walking to the hall.

"I am going - are you coming with me?"

With a sudden decision, Darcy joined his cousin.

* * *

They walked slowly, partly because the Colonel found it such a beautiful day, partly because Darcy was reluctant to go.

His cousin frequently shot him curious looks. Finally he asked, "Is there something troubling you, cousin?"

He looked up to see Fitzwilliam's concerned face.

"Why do you ask?"

"You seem preoccupied, and there are several rather strange aspects of your behaviour lately. Every morning this visit you go for a walk in the Park, you disappeared last evening and now after delaying our trip to London twice you are suddenly very eager to go there. Can you blame me for having suspicions that all is not well with you?"

Irritated, Darcy replied, "It is of no concern of yours. I am perfectly well!"

The Colonel looked at him with a knowing look and they continued to Hunsford in silence.

* * *

Mr. Collins either had a sixth sense or a very good view of the path for he and his wife and sister-in-law were waiting for them just outside.

"My dear sirs, you honour us with your visit," said the clergyman, bowing deeply.

The two women at his side curtsied almost as deeply as he did.

"Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Collins, Miss Lucas," said Colonel Fitzwilliam. He looked around. "Where is Miss Bennet?"

"She left early this morning to take a turn about the Park," said Mrs. Collins, "She looked rather pale when she came down for breakfast and said the fresh air would do her good."

Darcy said nothing. He knew that it was yesterday's event was the reason for her pale face.

"Is she well?" asked Colonel Fitzwilliam anxiously.

"I don't know - she has not come back yet and it has been an hour at least," said Miss Lucas.

"We had come to take our leave of you as we are to leave tomorrow morning," said Fitzwilliam.

"We shall be quite desolate without you, my dear sirs," said Mr. Collins with another bow.

Not even the man's humourous attempts at imitating his patroness could bring a smile to Darcy's face.

"If you will excuse me, I shall return home," said Darcy. "Sir, madam, I take my leave."

He bowed and turned to his cousin with an inquiring look.

"Ah, no. I think I shall wait a while . . . " replied he. Mr. Collins nearly fell over the chance to spend more time with one of the noble Lady Catherine de Bourgh's nephews.

Darcy shrugged and left. He was glad and yet regretful that he had not seen her.

* * *

As soon as he arrived, he went to his chamber and locked the door.

Leaving his Aunt and cousin behind was a relief - but though he knew he was doing to right thing leaving Elizabeth, he did so with a heavy heart.

He held his head in his hands, willing the tears not to come. He had not slept the entire night. The desk had bee cleaned and the candle replaced. It seemed as if last night's torture had never happened.

Finally, fully clothed as he was, he sat in the padded armchair and went to sleep.

* * *

His sleep was fitful and he soon awoke. It was about an hour later when he exited the room to join the others downstairs for their last lunch in Kent.

As he walked down the stairs, he saw his cousin just entering the door. Fitzwilliam sighed.

"I waited for almost an hour but I did not see Miss Bennet," he said. "I am quite worried and I would go out in search of her if I did not know that she knows these woods almost as well as I."

"Is she all right?" asked Darcy anxiously.

"I am sure she is. She is a very independent lady. Whoever her husband will be is in for a very eventful life."

Darcy looked at his cousin who looked at him significantly.

"I would not know," replied Darcy.

* * *

They left early the next morning. Lady Catherine had insisted upon Darcy kissing Anne's hand in farewell. He did so without protest so that they could leave as soon as possible.

As the carriage pulled away, Colonel Fitzwilliam sitting opposite him laughed at the sight of Mr. Collins deeply bowing beside the road.

"Ridiculous little man! When will he grow a spine of his own?"

Darcy did not answer but stared out the window. The Colonel sighed and looked wistfully at a group walking to Rosings.

"And I did not even get to say farewell to Miss Elizabeth Bennet," said he. "I must say this has been the best visit to Rosings we have ever had. Do you not agree?"

Darcy stared after the group and didn't answer. Elizabeth was walking at the back. She turned and glanced at the carriage. He could not tell if she had seen him.

Either way it did not matter.

"Darcy, are you all right?" asked the Colonel. He was staring at his face.

Darcy was suddenly aware of a wetness on his cheek. He angrily wiped away the offending tear and said to his cousin,

"I am perfectly well."

Colonel Fitzwilliam silently shook his head.

"There is something wrong cousin," he said seriously. "I want to help. I will be there for you but if you do not confide in me then I cannot help you."

 _I don't need - or want - your help._

The rest of the journey was silent.

 **Just forced myself to watch the BBC series and checked in with my mother. Once I had watched it, I realized that I have actually watched the entirety of it, probably at least a few years ago. My mother confirmed with me that she had shown it to me when I was young. I also realized after watching it that this story is based off the BBC series. Although I didn't recall watching it, I must have unconsciously based this book off of it. I'm sorry for the confusion, the false claim, and the accusations- I know it must have been extremely frustrating.**


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26~Dark Days Part 1

The carriage arrived in London outside Darcy's townhouse in the late afternoon. Throughout the trip, Colonel Fitzwilliam had tried his best to get his cousin to open up and talk without success.

Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley and the Bingleys were waiting to meet them. Their pleasure at seeing the two men were sincere, Georgiana's most of all with Miss Bingley close behind. The greetings were numerous but the contrast between Darcy and the Colonel was obvious. Fitzwilliam smiled and shook hands all round, but Darcy simply nodded to everyone then retreated inside the house.

He wordlessly handed the servant his coat and hat then went to his study. Behind him he could hear Georgiana inquiring about him to Colonel Fitzwilliam.

"Is there something the matter?"

"I don't know," said he slowly.

Darcy didn't care - he slammed the door and collapsed into the chair.

The fireplace was dark - the servants had not yet had a chance to light it. And many of them were well acquainted with their master - he did not want to be disturbed, and the only one who had the courage to knock on the study door was Colonel Fitzwilliam.

"Darcy, what are you doing in there? Why don't you come and greet your friends and sister properly?" When Darcy did not answer, he opened the door and stood there, blinking his eyes against the darkness.

"Georgiana has not seen you for some time and she says you have also neglected to write to her," he said.

Georgiana came up behind her cousin, then stepped past him into the darkened room.

"Brother, are you well?"

Darcy got up. He needed comfort right and took Georgiana into his arms.

"I am . . . perfectly well," he lied. Over her shoulder he could see Colonel Fitzwilliam staring at him. He shot him a look that convinced his cousin not to bring up the subject of Darcy's trouble at the present moment.

A maid respectfully bobbed a curtsey in the corridor.

"If you please, sir, ma'am, dinner is ready."

They left the room.

* * *

"And how was your visit?" asked Miss Bingley. She sat beside Georgiana with her brother on her other side.

"Quite interesting, actually," said Colonel Fitzwilliam. Some acquaintances from your visit to Hertfordshire was there," (here Bingley looked up), "Mr. and Mrs. Collins and Miss Lucas and . . . "

Darcy didn't listen to his cousin. But when it seemed that the Colonel was to reveal Elizabeth's presence in Kent, he looked up with a pained expression. His cousin saw it and said,

"And Aunt Catherine seemed to enjoy their company very much."

Conversation continued, dominated by Miss Bingley, who tried to get Darcy to talk and Colonel Fitzwilliam who answered all of her questions.

Darcy was not hungry. The food and wine sickened him and he soon gestured to the servant to take it away. He left the table without a word and went to the library.

He felt everyone's questioning gaze upon him as he left.

* * *

The library was large with a fireplace at one end. Darcy sat in the large chair beside it and stared into the fireplace. It was too warm for it to be lit fully and there were only embers.

He sat back in the shadows. Wherever he went, he still saw her. But last time it had been a pleasant memory - this time it was not. Before him the image of her rose unbidden.

 _You are the last man in the world whom I could ever marry . . ._

Anger rose at the memory. She had humiliated him - thankfully she was the only witness to it. Her accusations still rankled with him. Though he had explained to her why he had separated Bingley from her sister, he could not see Bingley without being reminded of it. His friend was withdrawn and he felt guilt at being the cause of it.

And Wickham! - If the man was in his reach right now, he would not have been able to prevent himself from doing something harmful to him. But Darcy had explained himself to Elizabeth had he hoped she would believe him.

Was it right for him to have told her about Georgiana's incident with the man? Was eh willing to threaten his sister's position just to win the approval of a woman he loved?

Why did he do it in the first place? It would not have changed her opinion of him - her hatred was too deeply rooted to be moved easily. She would probably tell the world about it out of spite!

Anger flared again - this time at himself.

 _She would not tell. She is honourable and she would understand that it is a delicate matter. How could you even think such a thing? If there is someone in the wrong, it is you!_

His wallow in sorrow was interrupted by the opening of the door at the other end of the library.

"Why is Fitzwilliam so sad?" came Georgiana's voice. "He has not said ten words to me since you returned, he shuns our company - what on earth happened in Kent?"

"Georgiana," said Colonel Fitzwilliam, "I truly do not know - " He stopped.

"Actually, I have an suspicion - _more_ than an suspicion - of Darcy's troubles. Whether I am at leave to tell you I don't know, it is a very personally matter of his."

"But I want to help him, and I cannot if I do not know what is wrong."

"I - " Frustration coloured the Colonel's voice. "I tell you what, dearest, if Darcy doesn't improve by next week, then I will tell you. But I am hoping that this is just a simple, temporary matter."

Darcy listened to his cousin. Though he could not see his face, he could tell his cousin did not think it was a simple matter.

Georgiana on the other hand, did.

"Very well. Please try and make him feel better. I am only a child - I cannot help as well as you can, cousin."

"You are growing up, Georgiana, and though I can see it, I don't know if Darcy can . . . " The rest of the conversation was lost as the pair moved out of the library.

Darcy remained where he was for a few moments longer, then went to his bedchamber without saying goodnight to anyone.

* * *

He had a dream that night - a nightmare really. He dreamed he was in a darkened room. There was moonlight shining in the window and by the window was the figure of a woman. Thinking it was Elizabeth, Darcy apologised again and again. Finally he asked her for her forgiveness.

The figure moved out of the darkness and into the moonlight.

"I forgive you," said Miss Bingley.

Darcy woke up, and groaned. He wanted Elizabeth's forgiveness badly - but how?


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27~Dark Days Part 2

The advantage of fencing was that it occupied the mind and the body. Thus it was that it allowed Darcy to forget his troubles that had plagued him for the past fortnight for a few moments and concentrate on something else.

Before Rosings, Darcy had been only moderately adept at the sport, but now he threw himself into it. He brushed his hair back and looked at his opponent. Colonel Fitzwilliam looked back and nodded. More young men and the fencing master watched from the sidelines.

His cousin made no move to attack; it was obvious he intended to be on the defensive this time. Darcy was happy to oblige and lunged. The rapier was parried and the two moved away again.

Suddenly, unbidden (and most certainly unwanted) rose the memory of that humiliating evening in Hunsford. He had lost that duel - very badly.

Determined that this time he would _not_ lose, Darcy attacked with such ferocity that the Colonel was taken aback and was pushed backwards until his back was against the wall, trying to block the rain of blows coming down on him. Finally, he lowered his rapier in a gesture of defeat.

Darcy took no notice, but slashed down. Thankfully, the Colonel leapt nimbly away and dashed to grab Darcy's sword-arm. He held it tightly until Darcy lowered the weapon.

"All right, I surrender. You do not have to injure me to win, Darcy," said he in half-jest.

Darcy did not answer. There was no indication if he had even heard his cousin speak.

* * *

The library or his study was his favourite rooms at the present moment. Few dared to disturb him there, and whenever he needed a distraction from his gloomy thoughts he could turn to one of the numerous books that filled the shelves.

Today, he was too tired to reach for a novel. The duel with the Colonel, on top of many sleepless nights, had exhausted him. Too weary to resist, his guilty conscience took hold.

He had nearly seriously hurt his cousin! He had let his emotions rule his good sense and in doing so he had nearly done something terrible. Had he not always tried to dissuade Bingley from that habit, of letting one's heart rule his head? See the consequences of it!

Usually Darcy would never have let such a thing happen. But so many things about him had changed ever since . . .

He knew what - _who_ finished that sentence. But he tried to turn his thoughts away from - her.

Soft footsteps behind him.

"Why are you here in this dark library?" asked Georgiana, touching the back of the chair Darcy sat in. "We are all missing you."

Darcy wished that Elizabeth and his sister could be friends. But if she despised him, then she in all probability wanted nothing to do with his sister.

He said nothing in response to his sister's query.

"What is troubling you, brother?" said Georgiana, voice trembling. "You have been so unhappy ever since your return from Kent. A whole day passes in which I do not see you - you spend the entire day either in your room or study or here. Whenever you do come into our company, you never speak unless it is absolutely necessary. You are so distant - it has been as if I have been living with a stranger." Darcy heard a sob in his sister's voice. "What is wrong? Will you not confide in me?"

He desperately wanted to talk to someone - but he could not burden his sister with his troubles.

"Forgive me if I do not. It is nothing that I should trouble you with." He sighed. "I don't even know myself anymore, if I am a good man or a bad one? is it possible for a man to change his way of thinking? Will I _allow_ myself to change?"

Silence fell. Darcy said no more.

"Come and join us, Fitzwilliam," said Georgiana, laying her hand on his shoulder.

He ignored the gesture.

"No."

Georgiana left. He heard her trying to hold back tears. Out in the hall, he heard her whisper, "Richard, cousin, nothing has changed . . . " The door swung shut, and Darcy got up and locked it.

He tried to read, but he found his attention wandering. Frustrated, he unlocked the door. Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam and Georgiana Darcy stood there. He ignored them both and brushed past them to his study. Again, he locked the door.

* * *

The best distraction was lying on his desk in a rather large pile. Letters to answer, accounts to manage and so much more were things that required his undivided attention. He flung himself into the chair beside the desk and grabbed a pen.

There were five letters. He answered them as shortly as possible. Bills, accounts were soon all done. Numerous invitations to parties and balls - all answered, all declined.

It was soon all done. With nothing to take up his attention he all too quickly lost himself in his suffering and sorrow.

Her words haunted him wherever her went, whatever he did.

 _Had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner . . . . You are the last man in the world whom I could ever marry . . ._

He had tried his best to forget them but they were acid-etched into his memory. Even harder to forget was Elizabeth's expression as she said those words.

Darcy stared at the luxurious room. Large, tastefully decorated with expensive furniture and shelves that held many generations worth of books. The accounts and bills, even when all paid, still left him many thousands of pounds. Yet he would trade it all for one kind word, one approving glance from the woman he loved, but who did not love him.

The pile of paper on his desk was a mute testimony as to how dull and empty his life was. In fact, when he thought about it, the most exciting times in his recent life, the times when he had felt the most alive were in Elizabeth's company; talking, dancing . . .

For all his duties and responsibilities, Darcy was still a young man, insecure in the ways of his own heart. He had 'lived in the world' as Elizabeth put it, but he had not _lived._ He did not know what to do - forget her or remember her, love her or hate her. He did not know how to separate his emotional problems from everyday life - that was why he had nearly injured his cousin that morning.

He wished he could talk to someone, expose himself and let his shields built around himself down just once.

But the last time he had did that, he had been hurt and humiliated. Never again. He was a man grown and could deal with his feelings himself!

Darcy was tired - for one moment he envied Wickham's indifference to what others thought of him. But it was only for a moment - he _did_ care about what others thought of him. Most of all he wanted them all - especially Elizabeth - to think well of him.

Was what Elizabeth said true? Did his friends and acquaintances see him in such a light? Arrogant, conceited with a selfish disdain for the feelings of others.

Darcy wanted to know - but feared to ask. Scared of what the answer would be.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28~Dark Days Part 3

Time passed as time does, slowly or fast at times. Darcy's twenty-eighth birthday came and went - it was celebrated very quietly with nothing more than congratulations and many happy returns of the day given by all his friends and family.

He himself could find no joy on the day. It was unhappy - he wished he could have seen his birthday with Elizabeth at his side.

It seemed that ever since their return from Kent, Darcy's life had been one continuous spiral downwards. He could not break out of it - and he did not know what he would find at the bottom.

Three weeks it had been since their return; three weeks in which Darcy's moods unpredictably swung from depression, irritable (usually when Miss Bingley was around) anger and despair. He was short-tempered and found fault in everything and sometimes could not refrain from snapping at everyone.

Darcy could not see Bingley without being reminded of how he had hurt Jane Bennet (unintentionally but done all the same) nor could he face his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam without a surge of jealousy at how Fitzwilliam had enjoyed Elizabeth's company and she his. When he saw Georgiana he remembered Wickham and how he had helped turn Elizabeth against him.

But the worst was that there was not a single minute in the day that he did not think of _her_ , and his behaviour towards her during their acquaintance. Reflecting upon all their meetings together he realised that Elizabeth's accusations were not without foundation.

In fact, he sometimes wondered how he could face _himself_ everyday with the knowledge of all that she had said.

* * *

It was late evening. The curtains were shut in the library and the only light was from a dying fire. Darcy sat in a large chair by the fire, his face hidden in the shadows. He was not concerned - the shadows seemed to reflect what he was feeling.

He sensed, rather than heard, his sister come in. Nowadays, it was something of a routine for Georgiana to try to persuade her brother to join their company. She had had no success.

"Will you be joining us tonight?" she asked.

Silence for sometime.

"No."

Darcy heard Georgiana stifle a sob. Suddenly she walked determinedly away in the direction of the piano. He heard her sit and open it.

Though it was dark, he knew his sister needed no light if she was playing from memory. Darcy gave no thought to his sister's actions until she began to play.

Mozart's Sonata in A, 1st movement. The piece Elizabeth played at Rosings. Though Georgiana played beautifully, he could not bear to hear her play _this_ particular piece.

"Stop!" he cried.

The music broke off abruptly. It was replaced by stifled sobs, and then running feet. A door slammed and then silence returned.

Darcy felt guilty about what he had done to his sister but that feeling was soon eclipsed by anger. How _dare_ she play that piece! It was Elizabeth's piece.

Suddenly the door opened again and was shut decisively. Darcy did not know who had entered but the mystery was soon cleared up as the one who entered spoke.

"Are you all right?" asked the Colonel in a tone of impatience, as if he knew what the answer would be.

"Yes," replied Darcy shortly and tightly from his position in the chair.

"No you are not." The Colonel came around to face Darcy, trying to see past the darkness shrouding him. "You have been in a foul humour ever since Kent. If you have to take your bad temper out on someone, take it out on me and not Georgiana! Can you not see how worried and upset she is?"

Darcy made no answer to this outburst, which had obviously been building for sometime. He merely stared in to dying flames.

"Everyone is worried about you and I myself am beginning to tire of this!"

Again, no response. Darcy saw his cousin take a deep breath, as if taking the plunge.

"What happened between you and Miss Bennet?"

His head jerked up and life returned to his eyes.

 _What on earth does he know?_

Seeing his reaction, the Colonel went on. "Don't try to deny anything, cousin; I have eyes. What happened between you and Miss Elizabeth Bennet?"

Regaining control, Darcy retorted, "It is none of your business and I do not want to talk about it."

"If you will confide in me I can help you and - "

"I don't want to talk about it!"

He would _never_ ask for help. His pride would not let him.

The Colonel sighed, frustrated. Darcy wished he would leave him in peace to nurse his wounded pride. But the loneliness also made him wonder and worry if what Elizabeth had said of him was true.

He did not want to know the answer to that - but he couldn't spend the night worrying about it.

As his cousin was leaving, he asked, "Fitzwilliam, tell me truly and honestly, do you think me guilty of pride?"

"What do you mean?" came the confused response.

"Exactly what I said, cousin," said Darcy impatiently. "Am I arrogant, conceited, with a selfish disdain for the feelings of others?"

"At the moment, I think yes!" came the near-shouted answer.

 _So it was true._

Depression and self-loathing fell over him. His face contorted with hurt and pain. As his face was in shadow, the Colonel could not see what effect his words had on him.

"For the last three weeks, you have wrapped yourself up in your own . . . self-pity, hurt pride and sorrow and you are taking it out on everyone else without a single thought as to how you are hurting them! Even your own sister - you should be ashamed at how you have neglected your responsibility to care for her!"

Darcy literally flinched with each word. Everything his cousin had said had opened up half-healed wounds. It was true, everything Elizabeth had said was true. Even his own cousin was telling him so to his face.

"Why you behaving so? What happened with you and Miss Bennet?"

Darcy did not hear him. He refused to let his cousin see how deeply he was hurt. He looked up and imagined he saw Elizabeth standing behind Fitzwilliam, looking at him. Darcy choked back a sob but made no answer to his cousin.

The Colonel looked down at him, waiting for Darcy to speak.

"I wash my hands of you. Solve your problems yourself if you will not ask for help."

Colonel Fitzwilliam stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him in his frustration.

Darcy sat there, frozen to his seat. Though it had been nothing in comparison to _that_ evening, nevertheless what his cousin had said stung.

There was some wine on the side table near by. Darcy poured himself a glass and drank it quickly. He looked at the empty glass for a while and toyed with the notion of getting himself well and truly drunk. It would numb the pain at least.

But that would make him as bad as Wickham, and he had seen the man with too many hangovers to relish the idea of finishing the wine off. That would certainly be ungentlemanly behaviour.

Bed was the only attraction the night held. He replaced the glass and walked slowly upstairs to his room.

* * *

Darcy slept uneasily - he had another nightmare. It was the same as the first one he had had, the night of their return to London.

Again, he was in a dark but moonlit room. There was a lady sitting by the window in the shadows. Darcy fell to his knees and apologised over and over to the figure he imagined to be Elizabeth.

Again, he asked for her forgiveness.

The figure stepped into the moonlight.

"I forgive you," said Lady Catherine.

She reached into the shadows and pulled Anne into the moonlight.

"I have waited a long time for this day, nephew," said she with a laugh.

Darcy woke up, gasping.

How much longer would he have to endure such pain and torture? When would he conquer it?

Would he ever conquer it?


	29. Chapter 29

**Finally updated! So sorry for the wait!**

Chapter 29~Dark Days Part 4

The next day dawned. It was one of those typical summer days; bright and warm. None of this lifted Darcy's dark mood, however. The Colonel's words last night had again thrown him into a mire of depression, self-pity and self-loathing, just when he thought that perhaps the pain dating from _that_ day in Kent had diminished ever so slightly.

Bingley had accompanied his two sisters and brother-in-law to the shops. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst were fine ladies, but in a habit of spending more than they ought. They had extended an invitation to Georgiana and Darcy to join them but as Darcy declined, Georgiana also could not go.

From his usual chair in the library he could hear the sounds of people going about their lives. Carriages rolled past, pedestrians chatted gaily, peddlers crying their wares. Their lives sounded happy, meaningful. Darcy's life, however, was bleak and empty.

One of the doors to the library was opened. Darcy could see his cousin standing in the doorway holding a rapier. Behind him stood Georgiana with a worried look on her face. Darcy turned away ignoring them until the Colonel spoke.

"You have been sitting in this room for too long. Come, why don't you come and fence with me?" Though the tone was casual, there was something in the Colonel's voice that implied that the question was not a request, but rather, and order.

"No, thank you."

"I insist." It was now clear that it was an order, and being a man of military background, the Colonel was accustomed to being obeyed.

Darcy began to refuse again, then gave up. It was obvious that his stubborn cousin was determined to spar with him so he might as well get it over and done with.

"Very well then." He rose from his seat and brushed past his cousin and sister and headed towards the ballroom. Colonel Fitzwilliam followed behind.

As he left, he fancied he heard Georgiana quietly say to the Colonel, "Don't hurt him, Richard," and his cousin replying, "If all goes as planned, the only one to hurt Darcy will be himself." But lately, his eyes had been playing tricks on him, seeing _her_ when obviously she was not there. Perhaps his ears were also beginning to deceive him.

He entered the ballroom, the only place large enough for such exercise and chose a rapier. Behind him, the Colonel closed the door - and locked it. Darcy did not notice, but removed his outer clothing, his cousin following suit. Once ready, the two men saluted and faced each other.

Darcy was certainly not in the mood for games - all he wanted was to be left alone. Unwilling to begin, he remained on the defensive. But it seemed the Colonel had also decided to go on the defensive and so none of them made a move to attack.

After some minutes, Fitzwilliam said, "Aren't you going to attack, coward?"

Darcy turned red at this but made no move.

The Colonel continued to taunt him.

"You really are pathetic, cousin. You are not man enough to face criticism and try to change your ways. Are you so easily humbled by words?"

At this, Darcy felt his carefully kept control slipping away.

"Stupid fool - you, the man who has everything one could wish for cannot even procure the good opinion of one lady!" He waved his foil mockingly at his opponent.

This had gone too far. Stung into the offensive, Darcy angrily lunged at his cousin, who easily parried the blow and backed away. He attacked again and again. Each blow was blocked and the Colonel laughed and taunted his cousin every step of the way.

Finally, in a great rage, Darcy overextended and left himself open. The Colonel caught him with a feint not even a beginner could fall for and disarmed his cousin, ending up holding both blades. He held his own to Darcy's chest.

"Surrender?"

Darcy breathed hard, exhausted. The Colonel on the other hand did not show a hint of fatigue.

"Yes."

"Good," replied Fitzwilliam. He threw the rapier back to Darcy. "Now you are ready to talk." He approached Darcy, and firmly taking his arm, seated him on a bench before the latter had the presence of mind to protest.

"What?" asked Darcy, confused.

"Georgiana and I are very worried, and as we know you well enough to know that you will never confide in us, we developed this method of getting you to open up." He looked at Darcy sideways. "We truly want to help you, but we cannot unless we know what is wrong. I have an idea, but I need to hear it from you." He paused. "I am sorry about what I said last night. Nor did I mean what I said just now. You are not proud and arrogant. I know perfectly well that you do care about others. Look at how you assisted Bingley out of that unfortunate marriage." (Darcy winced - that was _not_ a good example) "Why did you ask?"

Darcy gave a ragged sigh, too drained and left with no will to resist. Which, he reflected ruefully, had probably been the idea of the duel.

"Some . . . someone accused me of pride, and I believed that she - (too late, he caught himself) - that that person was correct."

Fitzwilliam looked pleased, as his suspicions proved correct.

"This person wouldn't be Miss Elizabeth Bennet, would it." A statement, not a question.

There was no use in denying it anymore. "Yes."

"Well, she is mistaken - "

"You did not see my behaviour towards her that evening," said Darcy, cutting off his cousin's words. "when I went to Hunsford and - " He broke off, unwilling to say more.

"And - ?" prompted the Colonel.

"Proposed marriage to her."

There was a shocked silence.

"You asked for her hand in marriage?" asked the Colonel incredulously. "You, Darcy, in love?" His cousin made no answer. "I knew you held her in high esteem but love? It is amazing!"

"You did not let me finish," continued Darcy as expressionlessly as possible. "She refused."

"She refused?" repeated the Colonel.

Darcy nodded and did not look at his cousin.

"My ears have not heard such incredible news in all my life. It is nearly impossible to believe! Miss Bingley, any woman, would have jumped at such an offer. And did she give her reasons for doing so?"

"Give her reasons for doing so?" Darcy gave a bitter laugh. "Oh yes. Frankly and openly."

"What did she say?"

Darcy leaned back on the cool stone wall. "Firstly, that I had ruined her sister's happiness by separating Bingley from Miss Jane Bennet."

"Bingley? Oh, don't tell me that it was Miss Bennet's sister you were speaking of."

"I am." Anger tinged Darcy's voice as he related the next. "Second was that I had denied Wickham the living promised to him by my father."

"That's preposterous!" snorted the Colonel derisively.

"Obviously he has deceived her. But that is not all," he continued. "Lastly, she accused me of . . . of not behaving in a gentlemanlike manner towards her, that I was proud and arrogant."

Colonel Fitzwilliam made no reply to the last. To fill the uncomfortable silence, Darcy said, "The first two I could defend myself against - I wrote her a letter and gave it to her the next day explaining my actions in the first two accusations. The third, however, I cannot defend myself against."

Fitzwilliam spoke slowly. "Darcy, I know that you would not have dissolved Bingley's relationship with Miss Bennet without a good reason, if you truly believed that it was a bad marriage and that the lady was indifferent to him. And with Wickham I know perfectly well that the tales the man tells are untrue and malicious. But as for the third - " He coughed awkwardly. "I hate to tell you this, Darcy, but I am in half-agreement with Miss Elizabeth's last assessment." Darcy looked at him, hurt and the Colonel quickly continued, "In company you are familiar and comfortable with, though you are quiet, you are the perfect gentlemen. But with those whom you do not know you are even more reserved. You are not comfortable in large gatherings of strangers so you hide your discomfort and remain aloof and distant. To others, those who do not know you like I do, it may seem like pride - for who would believe that a man or your position and wealth is uncomfortable with strangers? and so you alienate many before you even know them. And this will create problems with those you later do wish to know better - like Elizabeth Bennet."

"I am such a _fool!_ " exploded Darcy. "I arrogantly gave her a proposal of marriage, fully expecting an acceptance. I should have known she was not the kind of woman to accept me without true regard. And as for what I said - oh I am ashamed to even remember what I said to her!"

"Well, what did you say?"

Darcy held his head in his hands. "That her relations would be a degradation to me. It was a complete farce of a proposal, Fitzwilliam. I gave the impression I was doing her a favour." Darcy's voice became calmer, more sad and bitter. "In fact, now I see that she would have been doing me a favour, in accepting me."

The Colonel looked at him with sympathy.

"At least this explains your strange behaviour over the last few weeks. I could not tell it was love that was causing you pain - I have never known you to be in love before. I must say with Miss Elizabeth, I cannot blame you." He paused. "You still love her."

Darcy looked up startled. His cousin was looking at him with a small smile.

"You do. And though you may try to deny it, you cannot deceive me - or yourself, Darcy."

"What does it matter if I do or not? She despises me."

"But perhaps you can change that. You have explained yourself with Bingley and Wickham. I am sure she will at least think about what you have said. And as for the 'ungentleman-like manner' - you can change that."

"I can?" said Darcy in disbelief.

"Of course. People themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them forever."

With a start, Darcy remembered that day when Mrs. Bennet and the two youngest Miss Bennets had come to see Elizabeth and Jane at Netherfield. Elizabeth had said those exact same words.

"Can you help me, cousin?"

Colonel Fitzwilliam grinned. "Of course! This will be the first time, when I help you instead of vice versa. And," said he, getting up and extending a hand to Darcy. "your first task is to explain yourself to Georgiana and apologise to her."

Darcy looked at the offered hand and took it.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30~Dark Days Part 5

Georgiana must have been relieved by the Colonel's smile as the two men exited the ballroom, for she leapt up from her position in the hall and caught Darcy in a warm embrace. She then pulled away from him and when Darcy gave her a small smile - sad, but a smile all the same - she said,

"It is good to have you back, brother."

 _Yes, I have . . . . not been here lately. But I vow that I will make it up to her. To everyone, in fact,_ thought Darcy.

Colonel Fitzwilliam stood slightly off to one side as this reunion of sorts took place. When he caught Darcy's eye over Georgiana's shoulder, he gave his cousin a meaningful look and nodded in the direction of the drawing-room.

"Darcy, I think you owe Georgiana an explanation of your recent behaviour," said he. "For all that she is brilliant in devising schemes, she is not quite able to read your mind."

"Yes, I do," replied Darcy. Georgiana took his hand and led him into the drawing-room, closing the door behind them.

She sat down, unsure how to begin. Never had she had to play the part of listener rather than speaker in moments like these. Darcy also was uncomfortable. He was still unwilling to burden his little sister with his troubles, but it seemed that she was stronger than he had first thought. "I do not know how to begin . . . " said he.

"Then why don't I?" responded Georgiana. "What happened in Kent?"

Slowly but surely, Georgiana eventually extracted the explanation for Darcy's withdrawn behaviour. He told her everything - his feelings for Elizabeth and how those feelings had led to a proposal of marriage. She listened as he told her what Elizabeth had said, and how those words had affected him.

"Don't blame her for what she said, Georgiana," said Darcy, when the expression on his sister's face revealed something akin to shock and anger. "I now see that she was perfectly right in saying what she did. If any man is so arrogant as to propose to you in such a manner, I hope you will follow her example and refuse him."

Georgiana sat without speaking for sometime, digesting what had just been revealed to her. Then she said,

"Don't you wish that you could see her again?"

"If I could look upon her face and know that she sees me not as a monster, then I would be a happy man indeed. But," added he as an after thought, "I fear to, after _that_ evening." He sighed. "Georgiana, I am sorry for how I been these last few weeks, and I apologise from my heart if I have hurt you in anyway. Will you forgive me?"

Georgiana smiled, got up from her seat and walked closer to him.

"I forgive you."

Darcy had closed his eyes as she said the last, and wondered for one moment if he had been dreaming again. He looked up to see Georgiana, not Miss Bingley or Lady Catherine or some other apparition.

 _But of course she would forgive me. She is so good, she would forgive me for anything._

"Thank you," said he.

Again, she embraced him. He kissed her hair. Though her forgiveness had touched him, he still could not help but wish he could have introduced Georgiana to Elizabeth. That notion was now an impossibility.

Georgiana drew away from him.

"I believe that you should bathe," said she playfully, wrinkling her nose.

Darcy looked down at his sweat-soaked shirt from his bout with the Colonel.

"I believe so too."

Georgiana laughed and embraced him once more.

* * *

That evening at dinner, Darcy tried his best to join in and contribute to the table conversation. It was meaningless, mostly about what new gown Miss Bingley had bought or what hopes Mrs. Hurst had for the purchase of the latest material from an overseas country, but Darcy did his best to appear interested.

In the middle of the meal, a servant came bearing a letter on a silver plate addressed to the Darcy household. Darcy opened it and read it aloud. It was yet another invitation to yet another ball, this time held by Sir Wilkins, a rather old man with a fortune of six thousand pounds a year. He was but a small acquaintance of Darcy but held Darcy in high esteem.

"We do not need to go, brother," said Georgiana. There had been many invitations to such balls and parties, but all had been declined by Darcy who at the time was in no mood for socialising. Georgiana had wished to attend some but as time went on and Darcy still declined any invitations, she began to resign herself to not attending any. The Bingleys had attended some, but Miss Bingley, in an attempt to gain Darcy's attention, had said that Mr. Bingley had danced with no young women at all.

This time was no exception. It was plain to Darcy that his sister obviously wished to go but was thinking of his dislike for such gatherings.

Darcy caught Colonel Fitzwilliam's eye. He was looking at Darcy carefully, gauging his reaction.

"Actually, Georgiana, perhaps we should attend. Sir Wilkins's daughter would enjoy your company."

"You will be coming with us, Mr. Darcy?" said Miss Bingley. "That is wonderful news. I must say I found your absence at these functions quite distressing."

Darcy restrained himself from rolling his eyes. Instead, he politely answered, "Thank you, Miss Bingley."

"So we shall go?" said Georgiana hopefully. Bingley and his sisters were also looking at Darcy with amazement.

"Yes, I believe we shall. It is in three days - and you shall have a new gown to wear to it, Georgiana."

As Georgiana and the Bingleys expressed their delight, Darcy looked at his cousin with a questioning glance. His cousin looked back and smiled approvingly.

* * *

"I must say, Darcy this is quite a relief, seeing you so well again," said Bingley that evening after the ladies had retired. "I was quite worried - it is so unlike you to behave in such a manner."

"Well, I am better now, Bingley," replied Darcy. "I confess I have not been quite myself lately, but hopefully that is now behind me."

"I certainly hope so too," said Colonel Fitzwilliam from his chair by the fire. "By the way, my leave expires in five days, so in four days I shall be leaving for my regiment."

"You are leaving?" asked Darcy. He had been counting on his cousin to help him solve his problems, both concerning his behaviour and the feelings he still harboured for Elizabeth.

"Yes, I am afraid so, cousin," replied Fitzwilliam. "Will you be needing me?" he asked.

Darcy thought for a moment. Though his pride had lessened, he was still determined to work through this time on his own. Georgiana, he knew could also help if need be.

"Actually, I don't think so."

The Colonel looked relieved, spared from having to choose between his duties and his family.

"Well, I shall leave you two here," said Bingley, rising and opening the door. "Caroline is probably still gloating over her new orange gown that she plans to wear to Sir Wilkins's ball, and so I shall have to tell her to get her rest."

The men laughed and Bingley left, closing the door behind him.

"I am sorry I will not be present for Georgiana's birthday," said the Colonel reproachfully.

"That is a pity. What do you think we shall give her?"

"Perhaps a new pianoforte?" mused the Colonel. "There is a new one in the shop near her music master's; we could look at it someday."

"I care not about the expense - she deserves the best instrument there is."

The two sat for a while in comfortable silence. Then Darcy spoke.

"So?"

"So what?"

"So how did I do this evening?"

The Colonel thought for a moment, then grinned broadly.

"It's a start."

Darcy laughed, for the first time in many weeks.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31~Dark Days Part 6

Though Sir Wilkins house was quite different from Netherfield, there were enough similarities in the decor and furniture to remind Darcy of the twenty-sixth of November. It seemed like a lifetime ago, though it was but a few months.

Darcy, Georgiana, Colonel Fitzwilliam, Bingley, his sisters and brother-in-law were greeted by Sir Wilkins himself, in whose manner was very similar to Sir William Lucas, but not quite so long-winded and in possession of a dry sense of humour. He welcomed them cordially, his eldest son Edmund and daughter Isabella by his side. Isabella soon accosted Georgiana and drew her into the crowd. She was a warm-hearted, confident young lady, though perhaps having less than her share of common-sense. Darcy privately thought that Isabella was mostly a good influence on his sister. Hopefully she could persuade Georgiana to be a little less retiring and shy in company.

Edmund Wilkins, on the other hand, was more dignified in air than is younger sister and more modern in his thinking than his father. Though his father had disapproved, Edmund had invited his friend Mr. John Barnett, a merchant, and his sister, Miss Suzanna Barnett, to the ball. Sir Wilkins respected his son's opinion, and though disapproving of trades-folk in general, was willing to meet them.

Mr. Wilkins introduced Mr. and Miss Barnett to Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Mr. Barnett looked merely the gentleman, but it was the sister that caught Darcy's attention.

She was perhaps, slightly shorter than Elizabeth and her complexion was more pale. Her hair was a lighter brown and though her smile was pleasing, her eyes did not possess the same sparkle. The similarities were not enough to make Darcy believe that he was hallucinating, but more than enough to put him off-balance.

Darcy blinked and pulled his eyes away from Miss Barnett's face to look at the floor. He had been confident that he would enjoy this evening, trying his best to be amiable and pleasing, but this was quite unexpected. He breathed deeply, trying to regain control.

Colonel Fitzwilliam did not notice his cousin's discomfort, but instead made things worse by suggesting that Darcy dance with her.

"I . . . no. A-another time, perhaps," said Darcy. He knew that he was being rude but he need to get away. The room was too warm; there was a doorway leading to the balcony. Darcy turned and headed that direction, vaguely aware that the Colonel was following at a rapid pace.

The moment they were alone, Fitzwilliam pulled the curtains behind them closed and said, "Darcy what on earth are you doing? Why did you turn Miss Barnett down in such a manner?"

"I can't and I won't," replied Darcy, closing his eyes, trying to shut out the image of Elizabeth. He needed to forget her, and this was not helping.

"You are reverting back to your former self, Darcy," said the Colonel warningly.

At this, Darcy gripped the cool stone. He sighed.

"I apologise."

"What is wrong? You have been very good for the last three days and now something has obviously shaken you."

"Can you not see, cousin?"

"I do not comprehend you," said the Colonel, confused.

"You cannot see the similarities between Miss Barnett and Miss Elizabeth Bennet?"

"No I cannot."

 _Of course you cannot._ Darcy had spent so many hours studying Elizabeth's face, remembering it. There was no way that he could forget it.

"Can you?" asked Colonel Fitzwilliam.

"Easily. I still see her. She reproaches me, accuses me. I had thought I had forgotten, these last few days, but it seems that I have not."

Colonel Fitzwilliam sighed in frustration.

"You cannot spend the rest of your life pining after her, paying for that mistake. Put it behind you."

 _Ha. Easier said than done._

"Do not withdraw again behind your walls," he continued, "If you remain behind them, you will not seek out new friends, friends who would be willing to help."

Darcy turned to face his cousin. Relieved to see that Darcy would not be going back to his former ways, the Colonel went on.

"Remember her, take her words to heart, but do not let that memory control you. Move on with your life. Even - even learn to love again."

"How can you say that?" snapped Darcy, "You do not understand - "

"I am being realistic," said the Colonel calmly. "And that means accepting that she will, most likely, never come to love you as you do her and therefore, trying to overcome your feelings. Unrequited love, though it may be good for a story, is not healthy for anyone, least of all you."

 _Give up my love? The only thing I have in memory of her?_

 _But Fitzwilliam is right. I am only hurting myself - and others._

 _Face it. You are living in a dream, if you hold on to the belief that she will come to love you just because you explained yourself to her in a letter._

The dream was not one to let go of easily.

 _But I must try. No, not try, I will_ do.

The curtains parted and Georgiana came to join them.

"Is there something the matter?" she asked worriedly.

Having come to his decision, Darcy went to his sister and gently took her arm.

"There was - but there isn't anymore. You do not need to ask our cousin to fight me again, dearest."

From outside, strains of dance music were heard.

"We have been absent for too long - will you allow me the honour of this dance?" asked Darcy, giving a slight smile.

"Of course."

Colonel Fitzwilliam pulled the curtains apart and followed after them.

Darcy took Georgiana's hand and led her to the dance. She looked beautiful, like their mother. She wore her new gown, pale blue with silver lace. Unlike Miss Bingley, who preferred bright oranges and dark, bold colours, Georgiana was content with pale colours and white. Miss Bingley was currently standing to one side, scowling about something.

After the dance had concluded, Darcy saw that Miss Barnett was standing near Miss Bingley. Feeling guilty about his earlier actions, and remembering his cousin's advice, Darcy asked her for the next dance.

Miss Barnett may have looked like Elizabeth, but she had none of the wit and sparkle that had so captured Darcy. He tried to make conversation, but his partner was quiet. If she said more than ten words at a time, Darcy was surprised.

But though she spoke little, what she did say was worth taking notice of.

"Please forgive me for what I said earlier," said he, when the dance had concluded.

Miss Suzanna Barnett smiled. "Do not trouble yourself asking for my forgiveness," said she. "That is past; do not forget though but remember it for the future."

Darcy stared at the woman again. "I thank you," he said finally.

The ball continued uneventfully. Darcy found that he had enjoyed himself immensely. He had danced two more dances - one with Miss Isabella Wilkins, another with Miss Bingley. He had had an interesting conversation with Sir Wilkins - a polite debate on who was the better; King George III or the Prince of Wales who was currently Regent in his father's place. Darcy argued that the King was the better - the Prince lacked his father's ambition to govern and his private life was plagued by rumours, while Sir Wilkins argued that King George III had lost the American colonies and it was rumoured that he was mad. They both enjoyed the argument immensely.

Bingley had even asked three young ladies for a dance.

It had been a pleasant evening for everyone.

* * *

Darcy lay awake for sometime that night before he slept. Colonel Fitzwilliam was to leave for his regiment the next morning and Darcy, though sad to see his cousin go, was grateful for his support.

Throughout the evening, Darcy had pondered over his cousin's words. Fitzwilliam was right, it was time to let go of Elizabeth. And what Miss Barnett had said to him - yes, he would remember his mistakes and try not to make them in the future.

Darcy realised with some amazement, that this was the first time he had thought of Elizabeth without pain.

Perhaps he was getting over his love for her.

He slept.

* * *

A darkened room; moonlight shining through the window. A female figure sitting on the window seat, her face in shadow.

Darcy knew this dream, and slowly approached the figure. She looked at him but said nothing.

"I still think of you," said he to the shadowed figure. "I still remember what you said. I am sorry for what I did, unintentionally or intentionally. My interference with Charles and Jane was wrong and I am sorry for it. I am sorry for how I have hurt them. I am sorry for my behaviour to your family and friends. I was rude, arrogant, and I cared not for how I may have offended them. I am sorry."

In his dream, Darcy fell to his knees and did not look at the figure.

"But I am most sorry about my behaviour towards _you_. I cannot reflect on it without abhorrence. I have listened to what you said, and I have tried my best to take your words to heart and mend my ways. Now, I see that I must thank you for opening my eyes. I have lived twenty-eight years without knowing the truth of my behaviour. I only hope that I can come out of this a better person.

"I am sorry for my past actions. I can ask nothing of you - save your forgiveness."

He bent his head, unwilling to look and see who the figure was.

The figure stepped into the moonlight.

"I forgive you."

Darcy froze. He knew that voice.

A delicate, feminine hand reached under his chin, wet with tears and gently lifted his face to look at her.

"I forgive you," repeated Elizabeth softly.

She lowered her head and kissed him, tenderly, full on the lips.

Darcy wished that he would never wake up.


	32. Chapter 32

Part 32 - 'I shall conquer this . . . '

Darcy and Georgiana rose early to see their cousin off for his regiment in the North. The others were still deep in slumber.

"I am sorry that I shall not be present to celebrate your sixteenth birthday, Georgiana," said he as they stood on the steps. "Take care of your brother."

"I will. I still wish that you could stay longer," said she.

"I have stayed too long already," replied he. "Darcy, I do not want to hear from Georgiana that you are going to jump into the Thames or such."

"No fear of that. I am quite over it now."

Colonel Fitzwilliam looked at Darcy with a knowing look.

"You say that, but I don't believe it. No one can get over love in a single night." He took the reins from the grrom and mounted his horse. "Perhaps a change of scenery is called for, Darcy. Maybe you should go to Pemberley - I remember it is quite beautiful in the summer."

"That is an idea. I think we shall take heed of it and go to Pemberley in a few weeks."

"A few weeks? As soon as possible!" Fitzwilliam gave a mock-scowl and laughed. " _Au revior_ until we meet again."

Colonel Fitzwilliam rode at a trot down the road. Darcy and Georgiana watched him leave until his figure was swallowed by the morning crowd.

Darcy missed his cousin keenly. There was no one to help him laugh at himself or counsel him through times of need. Yes, his days were no longer dark, filled with long hours in which Darcy brooded in the library doubting himself, but he knew that he could never go back to being the man he was before Kent.

The memory of that dream still filled him. But that was all it was - a dream. And that dream did nothing to help him in his determination to stop loving Elizabeth Bennet.

His cousin's suggestion of going to Pemberley that summer was a wonderful idea. Maybe he could invite Bingley and his sisters to accompany him. Darcy enjoyed his friend's company, even if he did have a rather determined sister.

He informed them of his plan at lunch.

"Summer is approaching and Pemberley is a wonderful place to spend the warm months," said Darcy. "I intend to go there soon. Would you do me the honour of staying at my estate, Bingley?"

"Go to Pemberley? I would be absolutely delighted to join you, Darcy," said Bingley.

"So it is confirmed that we shall be going?" asked Georgiana. "That is wonderful!"

"A summer at Pemberley. Perfect," mused Miss Bingley, lost in her own thoughts.

Darcy smiled. He couldn't wait to leave London and travel to the refreshing landscapes and wonders of his home.

Not to mention that Pemberley would help him overcome the feelings he stil harbored for Elizabeth.

Plans were made to leave in a week. As Georgiana's birthday would be the day they arrived at Pemberley, Darcy was determined that a birthday present would be awaiting his sister.

The pianoforte he had had his eye on lately was secretly bought and arrangements made for it to be sent up before them. He gave instructions to Mrs Reynolds for it to be placed in the sitting room.

Gerogiana was impatient to be home. She spoke fondly of Pemberley for she loved it as well as he. Darcy noticed that she expressed her liking of one of the sitting rooms that held a wonderful view of the grounds at sunset, but regretted that the interiors were not so pleasing on the eye as other rooms in the mansion. Hearing this, another letter was sent to Mrs Reynolds asking her to renovate the room in Georgiana's favourite colours of pale blue and white. As another gift for Georgiana on her birthday, Darcy hired a painter to paint her portrait, also to be sent early to Pemberley to greet Georgiana.

Darcy was determined to make up for his abominable behaviour and indulged in his sister in every way. He had no wife to buy presents for to show how much he loved her. That was the main reason for Darcy's continous activity during their last week in London. He was trying, unsuccessfully, to forget Elizabeth. This was quite easily done when his mind was occupied, but one cannot work forever. It was at such times when Georgiana forced him to rest, but more especially at night before he fell asleep, that banishing Elizabeth from his thoughts was like trying to pick a lock with a wet herring. He would tell himself, before sleep took him, that he did not love Elizabeth but he would dream of her; how her eyes sparkled when she laughed how beautiful she looked when they met in the garden at Netherfield. Sometimes the dreams were repetitions of the one where they had kissed.

Darcy would wake up, torn between his determination to forget her and the pleasure felt whenever he did dream of her . . .

Darcy sat in his study, working his way through the pile of letters. He came to the last, and saw that it had the seal of Pemberley on it. Any business from his estate always recieved his immediate attention, no matter how small.

It was from his steward, Mr Cage. It told him that one of the farmers had been lax in his care of the fences that enclosed his land which was right beside the grounds of Pemberley. Unfortunately, that area of land was for the grazing of cows. One of the cows had broken through the fence and had not been caught until it had done soome minor damage. Mr Cage required his master's immediate decision on how much the farmer was to be fined.

'This farmer possesses a rather stubborn nature, and refuses to acknowledge the authority you invested in me. He insists on hearing from the master and no one else. Would you be so kind, sir, as to come to Pemberley earlier than you had originally planned?

Yours, etc.'

Darcy put down the letter. He had a great deal of concern in the welfare of his tenants and servants, and though the change in plans would be a bit of a bother, it would not be too much trouble. He would simply leave a day earlier than the rest of the party.

As the day of his departure grew closer, Darcy found to his alarm that work and activity no longer helped.

He was at the fencing gallery, the day before they were to leave London. Darcy challenged Baines to a match. His expertise with the blade had been growing and he wished to test his ability against the fencing master. The challenge was accepted.

Almost as soon as they had begun, it was clear who the winner would be. Darcy pushed Baines back almost to the wall. Finally, Baines conceeded defeat.

"Aye, acknowledged, very good sir," complimented Baines. Darcy moved away, very pleased with himself. He heard the whip of the blade behind him as the master saluted, and leaned against the pillar.

"Enough, sir?"

"Enough, thank you, Baines."

"Will you be back tomorrow, sir?"

"Not tomorrow, I have buisiness in the North - I will be back tomorrow week."

"Very good sir. Bid you good day sir," said Baines, leaving to attend to another of the young men.

Darcy sighed, tired out. Tommorrow, he was going home. Back to Pemberley - it was the dearest place in the world to him, but it was also where more duties awaited him.

 _I wish that Elizabeth would also be there to welcome me home . . ._

 _Damn it! There I go again!_

"I shall conquer this - I shall!" muttered Darcy to himself before leaving to change and to go back to his townhouse.

He left the next morning, riding slowly through the London streets. He knew that Georgiana was worried that, alone, he might fling himself into depression again. She was only partially right.

There was no meaning to his life anymore. All he had now was his duties and responsibilities. Friends and family for certain, but he had hoped that love would be part of his life too.

 _Fate it seems, has deemed otherwise._

He reached the outskirts of the city. He turned the horse's head to the North and dug his heels into the animal's flank, inducing it into a gallop.

It would be good to be home again.

 _God, it's hot today._


	33. Chapter 33

Part 33 Lakeside Meetings

The journey to Derbyshire was long, as well as hot, it being summer and all. But it was also uneventful; the moderate pace at which he travelled nearly lulled Darcy into sleep a few times along the way.

Finally, after many days journey, the village of Lambton came into view. Behind it, Darcy could see the facade of Pemberley house.

 _Home._

Darcy reined in his horse, tired. He did not feel up to riding through the village, where he would be the object of much scrutiny and observation. He had travelled this road many times and he was sick of it, wanting some change.

 _Well, why not?_

He turned the horse's head around to approach Pemberley from behind.

After fifteen minutes hard riding, he slowed and strayed off the path. The afternoon sun was warm, and his dark green coat did not help matters much. Darcy was tired, the horse was tired, but they were nearly there. He could see Pemberley through the trees.

There was sunlight glinting off the lake. The waters looked cool, refreshing. Darcy sighed, wishing he dared swim. But it was not a proper thing for a gentleman to do. If one wanted to swim, Brighton was the place for it.

The water was very inviting though . . .

 _Who cares? These are my own grounds. I can do whateer I please!_

He nudged the horse into a tired gallop towards the lake. A few metres from the edge he halted and dismounted. Leaving the animal there to graze, he put his hat and cane down on the green grass. Darcy walked towards the water's edge, removing his jacket as he did so. He sat down and began to undo his cravat.

As he did so, he wondered if all had been well at the estate in his prolonged absence. With a feeling of guilt, he realised he had been away for nearly a year.

 _I would have returned sooner, had not my attention been focussed . . . elsewhere . . . somewhere . . . someone._

 _Get your mind off her._

Vest, boots, all were removed until he stood, clad only in his shirt and breeches.

He looked at the calm water for a moment, then dived in.

The surface was warmed by the sun, but below it was cool and refreshing. Darcy swam through the cold water, a brief respite from duty and from the tumult of his tormented and unhappy feelings, before lack of air forced him to resurface.

The next quarter of an hour was spent in a similar fashion. For a few moments, Darcy could forget all his worries and responsibilities and just enjoy himself.

It was those same worries and responsibilities that brought Darcy back to the present moment. The day could not be spent in sport - he had things to do. That business with Mr Cage for example . . . oh, what was it again?

 _Yes, I really need to be heading home now._

Reluctantly, Darcy exited the water and gathered his clothing. He went to fetch his horse, only to see it gone. He searched the nearby area, and sighed with relief as he saw one of the groundsmen leading it back.

"Sir? Are you all right, sir?" asked he, concerned.

"I am quite fine. Thankyou," added Darcy. He began walking in the direction of Pemberley House. The groundsman followed behind, leading the horse.

They approached the trees, Darcy carrying his clothing in his right and his hat in his left. The slight breeze was easily felt through his wet shirt and it cooled him a little.

"Would you like to ride him, sir?" asked the servant.

"No, no, take him home to the stable," said Darcy, dismissing him. The man led the horse away to the left, while he continued his way alone.

He was nearly home. Just past the trees, down the hill covered with small yellow flowers . . .

The trees thinned out, Darcy looked up from the ground to rest his eyes on . . . Elizabeth Bennet.

He stopped and stared an absolute shock.

 _What in God's name is she doing here?_

"Mr Darcy!" said she, obviously as surprised as he.

There was a pause as Darcy found his voice.

"Miss Bennet!" That was all he managed to say before his tongue stopped. "I . . .er . . . " he continued, fumbling for words.

"I . . . I did not expect to see you . . . . . . sir . . . . " Her voice trailed off and Darcy saw her lower her fine eyes from his face to the region of his chest. He was painfully aware that he was clad in only breeches and linen shirt, the latter being rather transparent due to his earlier activity. He grew hot and Elizabeth seemed just as embarrassed.

She pulled her eyes and focussed them on a more appropriate place. "We understood the family to be from home or we would never have presumed . . . "

"I arrived a day early," said he, finding his voice again.

She did not seem as if she still detested him; if she did, she would have turned her back on him and walked quickly away. Distractedly, Darcy realised that here was the chance to show her that he could act in a more 'gentlemanlike manner'.

"Excuse me, is your family in good health?"

"Ah, yes, they are very well . . . I thankyou, sir . . ."

"I'm glad to hear it," replied Darcy genuinely. He searched for something more to say. "How long have you been in this part of the country?"

"But two days sir."

"And you are staying . . . ?"

"At the end of Lambton?"

"Yes, of course. I've just arrived myself . . . " He tore his eyes from her face, embarrassed in his present state. "And your parents are in good health? and all your sisters . . . " he said stupidly.

She laughed, making him even more uncomfortable. "Yes, they are all in excellent health."

The conversation ground to a halt. Darcy tapped his cane against his chest, growing more and more embarrassed.

 _What must she think of me?_

He had better hurry indoors and cloth himself more appropriately.

"Excuse me . . . "

He bowed and walked past her, forcing himself not to run.

The moment he was out of her sight, he began to run.

Darcy nearly flew into through the door, nearly knocking over a serving girl carrying a tray of dishes. She did not let it fall however, but as Darcy ran up the stairs to his own room, he heard a smash as the girl dropped the tray at the sight of her master. Darcy did not register this, but quickly grabbed some clothing and hurriedly changed without even bothering to call for his valet.

 _I might still be able to catch her!_

Elizabeth's very unexpected appearance was a great shock, but whether he felt more pleasure or pain at seeing her he did not yet know. All he knew at the present moment was that she was here, on his property, and he had about three minutes to prove to her that he was willing to forget their past differences and show her that he was prepared to be apologetic, tender, amiable and unsnobbish.

In four minutes he was nearly ready. Darcy ran out of the room, bumping into Mrs Reynolds.

"Good sir, whatever is the matter? We have had visitors here today and they are - "

"I know, I know, Mrs Reynolds!" shouted Darcy, flying down the stairs, adjusting his cravat.

A servant hurriedly opened the front foor. Darcy ran through, down the stairs, still buttoning his jacket.

In the courtyard he finally slowed, breathing deeply. Another precious moment was taken to check his appearance then he went in search of ELizabeth.

He did not have to search very long for he spotted hre walking at a hurried pace in front of the entry to the courtyard where Darcy could see the back of a carriage. He quickly went after her, calling out, "Miss Bennet!"

Elizabeth stopped at the sound of his voice and turned. She did not smile and Darcy knew that she was stil shaken by his sudden sppearance, as well as his recent appearance itself.

Darcy plowed on.

"Please allow me to apologise for not recieving you properly just now. You are not leaving?"

Elizabeth averted her eyes towards the ground.

"Yes sir, I believe we must."

 _We?_

"I hope you are not displeased with Pemberley?" said he, finding a safe topic of conversation.

"No, not at all."

"Then you approve," replied Darcy hopefully. He was dimly aware that there were two people standing behind him.

"Very much." She smiled. "There are few who would not approve."

Darcy cared not about other's approval - Elizabeth's was all that mattered.

"But your approval is rarely bestowed and therefore more worth the earning."

Darcy favoured her with one of his rare amiles. The atmosphere had become a little uncomfortable, and he turned to see who their companions were.

The pair were well-dressed and politely standing to one side, not interfering but certainly alive with curiosity. Their general air was dignified and calm; Darcy wondered who these people of fashion were that were so kind as to accompany his love.

 _No, not love. All you can hope from her is friendship._

"Will you do me the honour of introducing me to your friends?" asked Darcy, gesturing towards them.

"Certainly," replied she. They walked over to the man and woman. Elizabeth stood in between Darcy and her friends.

"Mr and Mrs Gardiner, Mr Darcy."

Mr Gardiner removed his hat and Darcy saw he and his wife exchange a meaningful glance. These people were obviously very observant and had noticed something.

"Mrs Gardiner is my aunt, Mr Darcy," continued Elizabeth, a slightly challenging note in her voice. "My sister Jane stayed at their house in Cheapside when she was lately in London."

Darcy was surprised. So these were the infamous Cheapside relatives? Darcy had taken them to be people of fashion. He was relieved to note that not all Elizabeth's family were not people to be ashamed of.

"Delighted to make your aquaintance sir, delighted madam," said Darcy, bowing to each of them in turn. "You are staying at Lambton I hear."

"Yes, sir. I grew up there as a girl," replied Mrs Gardiner.

"Delightful village. I remember running there almost everyday as a boy from Pemberley to Lambton during the horse-chesnut season. There was one very fine tree there . . . " said he, trying to remember which tree it was.

"On the green. By the smithy," answered Mrs Gardiner with a smile.

"The very one." Darcy turned his attention to the gentleman. "Mr Gardiner, do you care for fishing?"

"Indeed I do sir, when I get the chance of it."

"Well, if you have time, you must come and fish in my trout stream. Oh, there are carp, tench and pike a-plenty if your course runs to fishing; I should be happy to lend you rods and tackle and show you all the best spots."

Darcy was acutely aware of Elizabeth standing close to him on his left, staring at him with a kind of wonder.

 _At least her eyes no longer reflect hatred._

He continued, "Or - let us walk down now. Follow us to the lake, my man," he called out towards the carriage driver. He turned back to the trio. "I will show you."

Darcy walked by Mr Gardiner's side, keeping up a pleasant conversation about the sport and fish in general. Mr Gardiner proved to be intelligent and cordial and a pleasure to talk to. He sensed the ladies following behind, speaking closely to one another.

He took them to the edge of the lawn whicxh commanded a good view of the river. Mr Gardiner pointed out the places he suspected held the most fish, and Darcy was surprised to see that the man had got most of his guesses right.

After some minutes, Darcy could no longer restrain himself, and went to Elizabeth, who was standing a little way from the rest of the company. He gestured for her to preceed him in the walk around to the walk.

At such a time, they both wished to speak, and both began,

"I, errrr . . . "

They both broke off.

"Please, continue," said Darcy.

"I was going to say again, sir, how very unexpected your arrival was. Had we known that you were to return today we would not have dreamt of invading your privacy," said Elizabeth uncomfortably.

"Please, do not make yourself uneasy - I had planned it so myself but found that I had business with my steward and so rode on ahead of the rest of the party." There was a pause after this speech. Darcy looked at his fair companion, who returned his gaze. Nervously he twisted his ring.

"They will join me tomorrow; and among them tose who will claim an aquaintance with you." Darcy dropped his hands and his gaze. "Mr . . . Bingley and his sisters."

"Oh . . . " She also looked away. Darcy was painfully reminded of the last time Mr Bingley's name had been mentioned between them; and from Elizabeth's countenace, her thoughts were not much more differently engaged.

Darcy suddenly remembered Georgiana.

 _Even if we are not to be friends, then at least she and Georgiana can meet each other._

It was the highest compliment he could bestow on Elizabeth.

"There is also one other person in the party," he continued after a pause, "who more particularly wishes to be known to you. Will you allow me - or do I ask too much, to introduce my sister to your acquaintance during your stay at Lambton?"

Elizabeth looked at him in surprise.

Shocks and surprises seem to be the order of the day.

"I would be honoured, sir," replied she shyly.

They now walked on in silence; each of them deep in thought. Darcy was still too uncomfortable to easily talk. One thought dominated his maind - what did Elizabeth now think of him?

He was certain that she no longer hated him, that much was obvious. She seemed as if to view him with undisguised wonder, as if she could not comprehend what she was seeing.

 _Is she comparing my behaviour with her memory of the past?_ Darcy asked himself. _Surely she can tell that I have changed._

Darcy looked at her. She was still beautiful, though perhaps not as lively as times past. He was confused as to how she felt about him, how she now saw him.

There was only he knew for certain, though; he still loved her, even after all these months, misunderstandings and his trials and tribulations in London. And as he reflected upon it, he realised he had never stopped loving her.

He began to wish that she returned his affections. But no - that was an impossibility. He told himself that all they could now be were common and indifferent aquaintances.

They had walked in relative silence for most of the walk. As they were younger, they had soon outstripped the older couple. They arrived at the road where the carriage was waiting.

He then asked her to walk into the house, but she declared herself not tired, and they stood together on the lawn. At such a time, much might have been said, and silence was very awkward. He wanted to talk, but there seemed an embargo on every subject. At last he recollected that Elizabeth had been travelling, and they talked of Matlock and Dove Dale with great perseverance. Yet time and the Gardiners moved slowly - and his patience and ideas were nearly worn out before the tÕte-›-tÕte was over. On Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner's coming up, Darcy pressed them to go into the house and take some refreshment; but this was declined.

Mr Gardiner climbed into the carriage and Darcy assisted Mrs Gardiner in doing the same. He turned to ELizabeth, half-expecting her to decline his help and get in herself, but instead to his surprise (and pleasure) she held out her hand. Darcy gently took it and handed her into the carriage.

"Thankyou," said she before sitting down.

Darcy closed the door.

"I hope we shall meet again very soon," said he hopefully. "Good day Mr Gardiner, Mrs Gardiner," said he, nodding to each of hte two in turn.

He looked for a moment at Elizabeth.

"Good day, Miss Bennet."

Darcy bowed his head and stepped away. The carriage moved slowly forward. He lifted his head to see Elizabeth and her relatives one more time.

Then she looked back at him.

Darcy stood still, and held her gaze until they passed around the corner and out of sight.

He sighed, content, and walked slowly back to the house.

Mrs Reynolds was waiting just inside with the main servants to officially greet the returning master.

"Sir, it is a pleasure to se you again," said she.

"It is a pleasure to be home," returned he. "I apologise for my hasty entrance before; I hope I did not startle you too much," he said to the maid who was standing beside the housekeeper.

"Oh, I am quite well now, sir."

"The visitors we had here earlier today?" said Mrs Reynolds. "I believe you went to attend to them."

"Yes I did. Tell me, Mrs Reynolds, what did they say?"

"Oh, it seems that you and the young lady have met before."

"Yes, we know each other," said Darcy, hiding a smile.

"I told them all about you, sir, how good a master you are and all. The young lady seemed to take it all quite to heart."

"Did she now?" said he, pleased.

"She also said she recognised Mr Wickham among the minatures. I told her that he had turned out very wild and was now in the army. But then I showed her the portrait of you upstairs in the gallery, and dear me, she spent ten minutes in front of it, just staring at it with a small smile on her face."

"Oh?"

"Yes, she did. In the end her aunt had to shake her out of it, sir," said Mrs Reynolds, a grin lighting up her homely features.

"That is very interesting news."

And it was. For now, a small spark in him had arisen. Hope that perhaps Elizabeth did feel more for him than he had first thought.

"Very nice folk they were," continued the housekeeper. "The gentleman and his wife were very kind. Their niece, if I may say so, is a very lovely, charming young lady."

Darcy agreed wholeheartedly.

For the first time in many a month, Darcy slept under his own roof.

The day had been very interesting indeed. Elizabeth was no more than five miles away from him, and it seemed that the past had been put behind them. There was certainly no ill-will between them any longer.

Darcy had checked that all would be ready for Georgiana when she arrived tomorrow. The sitting-room was done to perfection, and the new instrument sat proudly in the same room.

 _And I have another surprise for her,_ thought Darcy with anticipation. _She will meet Elizabeth Bennet._

 _And that means I shall also see her again._

Did he dare hope that maybe, just maybe, his dreams might come true?

He thought back to when they had come upon each other in the garden, he less formally attired than normal. Darcy remembered the fire in her eyes as she had looked at him - not at his face but at the rest of him.

The feeling that look had generated was very pleasant indeed . . .

Darcy looked at the empty pillow beside him. He envisioned Elizabeth lying there, asleep.

There was no pain in the vision this time, nor did he reject it.


	34. Chapter 34

Part 32 - 'Georgiana, this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet'

For the twentieth time that morning, Darcy looked out the window of Pemberley House, only to sigh with frustration as he did not see the carriages bringing his sister and guests. He had been awake since dawn, waiting for them to arrive. Forcing himself not to pace the room, he sat down in a chair and thought back to the day before. He had arrived home, decided to take a quick swim and met the last person he expected to see walking in his grounds. After hurriedly changing, he rejoined Elizabeth and met her aunt and uncle then conducted them personally on a quick tour of his estate. They had parted amiably, with a desire to meet again.

Darcy blushed again as he wondered how Elizabeth must have felt, suddenly seeing him, less formally attired than usual. Though each had been extremely shocked at the meeting, it did not seem as if the misunderstandings, pride, prejudice and other troubles were still there between himself and Elizabeth.

Yesterday's events were still very clear in his mind, but only one thing mattered at the moment.

Elizabeth was only five miles away, and not only did she no longer hate him but she was also willing to meet his sister.

Darcy smiled, imagining how delighted his sister would be to know that she would finally meet the woman who had affected his life so much.

A slight movement outside caught his eye. A closer observation proved that it was Georgiana and the Bingleys' carriage. Darcy leapt out of his chair and quickly went outside to greet them.

The first carriage slowed and came to a halt just in front of the stairs. Bingley exited first, then handed is spinster sister and Georgiana out. Behind them, Mr Hurst did the same to his wife. Georgiana smiled when she saw who was waiting to greet them. Darcy descended the stairs and told the carriage driver, who was about to leave, to wait for them.

"It is good to be home!" his sister said. Close by, Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley were looking around appreciatively.

"So it is," said Darcy, taking his sister's arm. "But right now, there is someone I want you to meet."

Georgiana curiously asked who it was.

"We need to go to the Lambton Inn - she is staying there at the moment," continued he, side-stepping the question.

Bingley joined them in time to hear this conversation.

"She? Who is here, Darcy?" he asked.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Darcy anounced, "Miss Bennet and her aunt and uncle are five miles away in Lambton!"

This brought all conversation to a halt. Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst looked stricken, Bingley hopeful and Georgiana pleasantly surprised.

"Which Miss Bennet?" asked Bingley urgently.

Darcy looked at his friend, who was obviously hoping it was Jane Bennet. "Miss Elizabeth."

There was complete silence for a moment, broken by Georgiana's happy exclamation, "She is here? You have seen her?"

Bingley was disappointed, but his face still expressed delight. Georgiana was impatient and dying of curiosity to meet the famous Miss Elizabeth Bennet, whom she had heard so much about. Miss Bingley and Hrs Hurst, however, were looking at each other, shocked. Darcy reveled in their expressions for a moment, then turned his attention back to his sister.

"Yes, I have seen her, and I am quite anxious for you to meet her. Would you come with us, Bingley? Miss Bingley?"

Bingley with no surprise, immedietly accepted. Miss Bingley did not answer immediately; Darcy watched desire to come and desire not to struggle for supremacy on her face. After a few moments, she declined.

"If that is all settled, then we shall leave," finished Darcy. Georgiana began to enter the carriage she had just vacated a few minutes ago, when Miss Bingley said,

"You are going now?"

"Of course," replied Darcy. To halt any further delays, he joined Georgiana, Bingley following behind.

"Is she expecting us so early?" inquired Georgiana as the carriage pulled away.

Darcy hesitated. Did Elizabeth expect them today or later?

"I am not sure. But I wish very greatly for you to know each other."

"I am very eager to see her too," said Bingley. "Ii will be interesting to hear what has happened in Hertfodshire in our absence, and to know if all our acquaintances are well; Sir William, Mr Bennet, Mrs Bennet . . . ."

He trailed off, staring out the window. Darcy felt a pang of guilt - he should have told Bingley the truth of Jane's feelings for him and apologised for not informing Bingley of Jane's presence in London.

But he would do that soon enough - right now all that mattered was that the two women he loved most in the world were finally to meet each other.

The carriage pulled in front of the Lambton Inn. As soon as it came to a complete stop, Darcy got out, leaving Bingley to assist Georgiana. He took off his hat and nodded a greeting to the innkeeper. The man's eyes grew wide as he saw who his visitor was.

"Sir!" He looked behind Darcy to see Georgiana and Bingley come in as well. "This is an unexpected pleasure, my dear sirs and madam. How can I be of assistance to you?"

"Good morning, " said Darcy. "I understand you have some guests at the moment - a couple traveling with their niece. Mr and Mrs Gardiner, and Miss Bennet."

"Indeed I do, sir. Very genteel folk they are; do you wish to see them?"

"Yes I do."

"I am afraid they are out at the moment; I believe Mr and Mrs Gardiner are visiting friends while the young lady is out walking. Miss Bennet should be returning shortly; the gentleman and lady sometime later."

Darcy glanced at his companions. "We shall wait."

The innkeeper nodded, then turned to shout through the door behind him, "Hannah!"

The girl stuck her head through the door. Upon seeing Mr and Miss Darcy and Mr Bingley she came out at once.

"Yes, Papa?"

"Show Mr Darcy to where Mr and Mrs Gardiner are staying - and if you see Mr or Mrs Gardiner, or Miss Bennet, give them a shout and tell them they have visitors."

"Yessir."

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" asked the innkeeper.

"Yes, you can get me a cup of tea, please," said Bingley. "I am eager to see Miss Bennet but if she is not here as of yet I will wait here. You dragged us here before we had even gone into the house to take breakfast," he said to Darcy.

Hannah shyly joined them and said, "This way, if you please sir."

Darcy and Georgiana followed her up the stairs.

The rooms where Hannah led them to were comfortable and well-kept. There was no one inside, but Darcy was determined to wait for as long as he could. He sat down in the chair near the door, while Georgiana restlessly looked around. Hannah was obviously uncomfortable in their presence, and though Darcy tried to ease this, she was still uneasy and regularly looked out the window.

After a while, Hannah leaned out the window and called out to someone in the street below. Darcy could not hear what she said, but surmised that either Elizabeth or her aunt and uncle had returned.

Hannah turned back to them with a smile and said, "She is here and will be coming up directly." She bobbed a curtsey and hurriedly left. Darcy watched the door, listening for footsteps. Georgiana was in the inner room, partially hidden by the wall, looking out the window at the countryside.

At long last, Elizabeth Bennet arrived. Darcy quickly rose, absently noticed that she was wearing the same colours as Georgiana - pale blue coat over a white muslin dress.

"Mr Darcy." She curtsied and he gave a bow. "I hope you have not been waiting long."

"Not at all. May I," said he, stepping to one side to reveal Georgiana. "introduce my sister, Georgiana."

Elizabeth smiled and moved to face Georgiana Darcy. Darcy watched as his sister shyly looked at the woman who had touched her brother's heart.

"Georgiana, this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

The two women curtsied to one another. "How do you do?" asked Georgiana softly.

"Very pleased to meet you, Miss Darcy - I've heard so much about you," replied Elizabeth.

"And I about you."

Darcy hoped to goodness Georgiana would know not to talk about how he still loved Elizabeth. Remembering that Bingley was still downstairs he said, "Mr Bingley is here with us, and very desirous to see you as well. He insisted on accompanying us." He gestured towards the door. "May I summon him?"

Elizabeth turned to face him, a large smile covering her face. "Of course! I should like to see him very much."

Darcy bowed and left the room, leaving his sister and Elizabeth to talk.

Things were going very well - Georgiana and Elizabeth liked each other immediately.

As for Elizabeth herself, there was certainly no reproach in her manner towards him. Did he dare hope that he could actually win her love?

He looked around the room in search of his friend. He espied him in a corner, talking gaily with the innkeeper.

"Miss Bennet is here, Bingley," said Darcy.

"She is? Wonderful!" He drained his cup, picked up his hat and gave the innkeeper some coins. "Let us go!"

He motioned for Bingley to preceed him. They quickly ascended the stairs and entered the room. Elizabeth and Georgiana were deep in conversation but turned at the gentlemen's arrival.

"Miss Bennet!" began Bingley happily. "I can't tell you how delighted I was when Darcy told me you were not five miles from Pemberley! How do you do?" He bowed; Darcy stood at a slight distance away from the group, content to watch. "I can see that you are well."

"Very well indeed, I thank you."

"Good, good, excellent!" Bingley looked at Georgiana, then back to Elizabeth. "And your family? are they in good health?"

"Yes, very well."

"Yes?" There was something in Bingley's tone that Darcy did not miss. "Pray tell me, are _all_ your sisters still at Longbourn?"

It was obvious to Darcy that there was only _one_ sister Bingley was inquiring about.

"All except one," replied Elizabeth.

Even though Bingley's back was to him, Darcy could tell his friend was distressed.

"My youngest sister is at Brighton."

 _No doubt she is enjoying herself immensely,_ thought Darcy remembering Lydia Bennet's flirting with the officers. But he politely did not say this aloud.

"Ah," said Bingley, the relief plain in his voice. He looked meaningfully at Georgiana, who curtsied to them both and left to join Darcy. Bingley and Elizabeth carried on their conversation while Darcy whispered to Georgiana,

"How do you find her?"

"Perfectly amiable. I like her a great deal," replied his sister.

"That is good."

They looked towards the lady in question. She laughed and smiled which touched Darcy greatly. He had not seen her for so long, though he had thought of her often, but not always with fondness.

 _But she was right in every respect, except with Wickham,_ thought he. _I have changed - and so has she in some respects._

"Maybe we can invite her to dinner tomorrow?" said Georgiana hopefully.

Darcy looked at his little sister. "I think you shall."

"Me?"

"Yes."

Darcy remembered his cousin saying that his sister was brilliant in devising schemes. Whether this was another of them, he did not know. Either way, she was too shy to put her plans into action.

"Do you know, I don't think I can remember a happier time than those short months I spent in Hertfodshire," said Bingley wistfully.

"Go on," said Darcy. His sister shook her head, embarrassed.

"Miss Bennet," said Darcy, "my sister has a request to make of you."

Georgiana slowly moved towards Bingley and Elizabeth.

"Miss Bennet . . . My brother and I would be . . . honoured if you and your aunt and uncle would be our guests at Pemberley for dinner. Would tomorrow evening be convenient?"

Elizabeth smiled. "Thank you - we shall be delighted."

Georgiana looked back at Darcy, relieved and pleased.

"I can answer for Mr and Mrs Gardiner, we have no fixed engagements."

"And shall we hear you play?" asked Georgiana hopefully.

"If you insist upon it, yes, you shall."

Darcy was delighted that she had accepted. He made a mental note to himself that tomorrow night, everything would have to be perfect for Elizabeth.

Footsteps were heard entering the door. They all turned to see Mr and Mrs Gardiner there. Their faces showed their surprise and delight.

"Mr Darcy, we did not expect to see you so soon, but is a wonderful pleasure to see you again" said Mr Gardiner.

"As it is for me to see you again," replied Darcy.

"Lizzy dear, would you introduce our gusests to us?" asked Mrs Gardiner, glancing at Bingley and Georgiana.

"Of course, Aunt." Elizabeth moved to stand beside Darcy. "Miss Georgiana Darcy, Mr Darcy's sister," said she, indicating the lady, "and Mr Bingley, who resided in Hertfodshire for a few months in Netherfield."

"Bingley, Georgiana, this is Mr and Mrs Gardiner, Miss Bennet's aunt and uncle," said Darcy. "We have invited you all to dine with us at Pemberley tommorrow night - Miss Bennet has accepted the invitaion on your behalf, sir."

"That is excellent news, thankyou sir."

Mrs Gardiner, upon hearing this, looked at her husband and silently directed his attention to Elizabeth and Darcy. He wondered what they were thinking of about himself and their niece.

 _Do they suspect more than is actually there?_

"Would you not like to come earlier, Mr Gardiner? My invitation of coming to fish is still open," said Darcy. He caught a glimspe of Elizabeth, still looking at him with an expression of astonishment.

Mr Gardiner readily agreed to this proposal. The visit did not continue for much longer afterwards, and Darcy, Georgiana and Bingley soon took their leave. Mr and Mrs Gardiner saw them off; Elizabeth stood off to one side after expressing her farewells, staring at him. Darcy looked at her and their eyes met for one moment. She was the first to look away, blushing.

"Till tommorrow, then," said he before the carriage pulled away. _

In the carriage, Bingley and Georgiana talked gaily about the visit, each saying how pleased they were to meet them, either again or for the first time. Darcy was silent, wondering what Elizabeth felt for him. He still loved her, but did she feel the same?

 _Every time I answer one question, another rises in its place._

"I wonder what it is like, living with four sisters," wondered Georgiana. "Miss Bennet said she wished she had a brother."

"If you had four sisters, Darcy would go mad trying to keep all of you happy," joked Bingley.

"I wish I had a sister. I wish Miss Elizabeth Bennet was my sister," said Georgiana aloud.

She looked at Darcy, as did Bingley.

"What?" asked Darcy uncomfortably.

Miss Bingley was waiting for them inside.

"And how is Miss Eliza?" asked she of Darcy. "Are her eyes as fine as they were in Hertfodshire?"

Darcy was too pleased to take offense. "Yes, maybe more so. Her aunt and uncle are here with her, Miss Bingley - the ones who liv in Cheapside." He paused. "I have invited them to dine with us here tomorrow."

The look on Miss Bingley's face was priceless, but Darcy pretended not to notice and led Georgiana to see her birthday presents.


	35. Chapter 35

Part 35 -Reconciliation

True to his word, Mr Gardiner arrived at Pemberley at noon. Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley eagerly awaited his arrival in the drawing room, valiantly bearing Miss Bingley's snide comments and complaints about their guests for dinner. Thankfully, the entrance of Mr Gardiner silenced her at once, and after greetings were made the men, excluding Mr Hurst who was having lunch, set off for the river.

They decided upon one of the spots Darcy had pointed out to Mr Gardiner two days before. Before long, Mr Gardiner, Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley were comfortably settled on the bank, talking while waiting for a bite. Unfortunately, the fish did not wish to oblige them - many smaller ones were caught but had to be released - and it was nearly an hour after they had first cast their lines before Bingley drew his back, landing a large trout.

"I wonder if that fine specimen of a fish will grace the table tonight?" asked Mr Gardiner.

Darcy thought about it. "I think it will. My cook could do wonders with it." He turned his attention back to his own line, which stubbornly refused to catch anything.

"That is good to hear," said Mr Gardiner. "I must confess I enjoy a good meal heartily."

Bingley looked up from his catch. "Hurst does as well, though I think he eats more than is healthy for him."

"When you get to my age, young sir, the simple pleasures become very dear," laughed Mr Gardiner. "As long as one eats healthily, a little indulgence won't do any harm."

"Outdoor exercise won't harm a person either. My cousin is of a delicate constitution, and spends much of her time indoors. I believe it would do her a great deal of good if she were to venture out of the house a bit more often, like your niece," said Darcy. "Miss Bennet, I hope was well this morning?" he asked as casually as possible.

Mr Gardiner looked at him with a questioning look. He smiled, as if knowing something Darcy did not know. Bingley by this time, had re-baited his line and cast it out. The splash was unnaturally loud in the silence following Darcy's question.

"In actual fact, I began to worry this morning that she might be coming down with some illness or other. Don't worry," he hastily continued upon seeing Darcy's very concerned look, "she assured me that she was quite well and that she would be keeping tonight's engagement. I only thought so because for the last few days she has been unusually silent and this morning she remarked that she had stayed awake two full hours thinking about - " Mr Gardiner broke off. "I know not what would have kept her awake for so long for she did not tell me."

This did nothing to alleviate Darcy's concern, and he inquired as to when these symptoms had begun.

"Come to think of it, that afternoon when we came upon you while looking at your estate."

This threw Darcy into deep thought. He was certain Elizabeth was not ill, (if she was, he vowed to do everything in his power to help her recover) and somehow knew that, to her, his sudden change in behaviour must have seemed most strange indeed. Add to that the letter he had written to her months ago, and her feelings towards him must be be very confused indeed.

But what did she feel for him? Certainly not hate, was it friendship? More than friendship?

 _Is it even right for me to wish more from her?_ thought he. _God knows how much I love her, should I ask for more on her part?_

He cringed away from the thought, as realistic as it was. Did she only wish for friendship when he felt so much more towards her?

Mr Gardiner let out an exclamation of delight as he reeled in a fish whose size challenged Bingley's catch. Darcy and Bingley congratulated him as it was landed and expressed hopes for more sport.

Darcy's thoughts, however, were no longer on fishing. "When will your wife and niece be coming?" he asked Mr Gardiner.

"I believe they were to visit one of our friends in the village and come here - in fact they should have been at Pemberley quite some time now," finished he glancing at his time-piece.

Darcy had to restrain himself from immediately getting up and heading back to the house. Such an action would only arouse suspicion in people's minds and so it was with some difficulty, he waited.

After a five minutes, he could not fight the desire to see her again.

"I do not think I shall have any luck today," said he getting up. "I will return to the house. Will you join me?"

Mr Gardiner and Mr Bingley glanced at each other. "In a little while perhaps. I am still willing to hope there will be more fish later," said Bingley. Mr Gardiner agreed and so Darcy excused himself and returned to the house.

He found the ladies in the saloon, whose northern aspect rendered it beautiful for the summer. They were eating some fruit and Darcy was glad to see that Georgiana was playing the role of a good hostess.

His eyes immediately searched for Elizabeth. She sat off to one side, far from Georgiana, next to Miss Bingley. Upon his entry, Elizabeth had turned towards him and seemed as if to say something but Miss Bingley had risen and come to talk to him. He soon quickly but politely deflected any attempts to secure him in conversation and made to go and sit in the seat Miss Bingley had vacated but Miss Bingley quickly moved to retake her seat. He chose instead to sit beside Mrs Gardiner.

There was little conversation; Miss Bingley hardly spoke a word (except to himself), Georgiana was shy, Elizabeth uncomfortable and so the bulk of the conversation was carried by Mrs Gardiner and Mrs Annesley. What was more, Darcy soon realised that the suspicions of the entire party were awakened against himself and Elizabeth and so he was unable to even glance at Elizabeth without alerting Miss Bingley or Mrs Hurst.

Not long after his arrival, Mr Gardiner and Mr Bingley returned, the servants carrying another trout as a result of their patience. The fishing equipment were put away, the fish sent to the kitchen and soon with the addition of the two men, the whole party were conversing gaily.

After some time, Mrs Gardiner expressed her desire for some music. She ruefully admitted to being unable to play, a confession which was greeted with haughty smiles by Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst. The former agreed to play a piece, "if Miss Eliza would be so kind as to oblige us with a song?"

Elizabeth, Darcy noticed, was still very deep in thought, and Miss Bingley had to repeat her question another time before Elizabeth agreed.

They all moved into the music room, where Georgiana's new pianoforte stood by the window. Miss Bingley, before she sat down at the instrument, gave Darcy a triumphant smile. He ignored it, merely waiting for her performance to be over.

From his seat near Mr Gardiner, Darcy looked again at Elizabeth. She was talking to Georgiana off to one side, near Mrs Hurst who sat opposite him. Bingley talked quietly to Mrs Gardiner nearer to the piano. Mr Hurst sat next to some food. Georgiana walked towards her brother, leading Elizabeth. Darcy watched in amazement; she did it all so artfully, Elizabeth did not realise that she was drawing closer to Darcy until Georgiana said,

"What would you like to hear Miss Bennet play?"

Elizabeth looked down at him in sudden surprise. Darcy looked up. "Ah - anything you like, Miss Bennet. Is there some favourite of yours, perhaps?"

Before Elizabeth could reply, Miss Bingley began to play, a fast and demanding sonata, thus cutting off any conversation - which might have been her intention.

Miss Bingley played agreeably, but though it was technically brilliant, there was no feeling behind it. Polite applause followed, then fell silent as Georgiana searched through a neat pile of music. She found the music she was looking for and gave it to Elizabeth, giving her brother a sly smile. Miss Bingley sat next to her sister, opposite Darcy.

"Would you not play this?" asked Georgiana softly. Elizabeth replied that she knew the piece very well, but would Georgiana be so kind as to turn the pages for her? Georgiana agreed and stood to Elizabeth's left, allowing herself a full view of the room, and Darcy a full view of Elizabeth. Which might have been her intention.

Elizabeth glanced at Georgiana and then began to play.

The aria, from one of Mozart's operas, was a beautiful piece, and though Elizabeth did not perform it masterly, nevertheless, it touched Darcy's heart. She sang, and everyone else disappeared from the room - only Elizabeth remained. Darcy relaxed and leaned back, vaguely aware of Mr Gardiner looking at him with amusement, and Miss Bingley with worry. But he did not care - all that mattered was the song and the performer. A rare smile of pure contentment lighted up his handsome features.

All too soon, the song drew to a close. He applauded, never taking his eyes off her. He only did so when Mrs Gardiner looked at him curiously.

 _How much do they suspect - or know?_

Georgiana spoke softly to Elizabeth. They continued their quiet conversation while Miss Bingley tried to involve Darcy in hers. He pretended not to hear her but stared out the window at the lake where he had met Elizabeth.

Suddenly, he was aware of some one looking at him. He looked up to see Georgiana and Elizabeth staring at him. He was glad that Georgiana and Elizabeth were getting along like sisters and he wondered what they were saying about him.

Elizabeth moved away from the piano and gestured for Georgiana to play. His sister's look of horro did not dissuade Elizabeth and soon Georgiana was performing. Darcy was delighted, finally, someone had persuaded Georgiana to overcome her shyness.

Elizabeth began to walk in his direction. He feverently hoped that she would dit beside him, but instead Miss Bingley turned to her and said,

"Pray, Miss Eliza, are the militia still quartered at Meryton?"

"No, they are encamped at Brighton for the summer," replied Elizabeth.

"That must be a very great loss to your family."

Darcy was shocked that Miss Bingley would have the audacity to insult his guest.

Elizabeth responded politely, "We are enduring it as best as we can, Miss Bingley."

Miss Bingley, however, was not finished.

"I should have thought one gentleman's absence might have caused particular pain."

In the tense pause that followed, Darcy was torn between his anger at Miss Bingley and his uncertainty of what feelings Elizabeth still harboured for Wickham.

"I can't imagine who you mean," said Elizabeth evasively.

"I understand that certain young ladies found the society of Mr Wickham, curiously agreeable."

At the mention of Wickham, Georgiana looked up sharply and the piece abruptly stopped. Darcy half-rose to go to his sister's aid if need be.

 _How dare she mention Wickham in my house!_

But any drastic action was quickly avoided. Georgiana quickly recovered and began playing again. Elizabeth calmly returned to the instrument saying, "I'm so sorry - I am neglecting you. How can you play with no one to turn the pages?"

Her calm and controlled manner soon dissipated any uncertainties Darcy still harboured in regard for Elizabeth's feelings to Wickham. He restrained himself and settled back in his seat.

His anger at Miss Bingley had not disappeared. The lady in question was looking at him triumphantly. He allowed himself the pleasure of glaring at her. She saw this and quickly averted her gaze.

"There, allow me," said Elizabeth softly to Georgiana. A page was turned.

The piece modulated into a minor key. As it did so, Elizabeth looked at him.

Darcy caught his breath and held her gaze. None of them were willing to break the spell. She smiled at him, and he returned the favour.

What unspoken meanings spanned the distance - so close and yet so far - between them! Love's light-through-eyeball energy raced and flew over the heads of the party, unaware of the silent communication in their midst. What a gift this moment was from the unpredictable hands of Fate that had thrown them together, erected walls between them, built on their pride and prejudice, and only now allowed them this one moment of happiness together.

For that one moment, Darcy made himself completely open to the world. His love and adoration were clearly written on his face. He knew that anyone could tell he was in love.

And he knew that Elizabeth could see it as well.

The visit had ended after dinner. The afternoon's catch had been the focus of the meal. It was Georgiana's first experience at being hostess, and she performed admirably. She had also made the seating arrangements and whether by accident or design, had tactfully put Miss Bingley at the far end of the table and placed Elizabeth to Darcy's immediate right. He had to tell himself time and time again to keep his eyes on his plate and not the lady sitting next to him.

Darcy, Bingley and Georgiana had been the only ones to bid their guests farewell outside. Promises to meet again were made and as the carriage drove away, Bingley escorted Georgiana back indoors. Darcy, however, ventured further outside, watching Elizabeth depart.

Though the night was dark, he somehow knew without using his eyes to confirm it, that Elizabeth had turned back to look at him and smiled.

Georgiana, tired after the day's activities, went to bed, leaving Darcy and Bingley to go to the drawing-room where Miss Bingley and Mr and Mrs Hurst were. No sooner had he poured himself and Bingley a glass of wine, Miss Bingley began her torrent of criticisms.

"How very ill Eliza Bennet looks this morning, Mr. Darcy,'' she cried; "I never in my life saw any one so much altered as she is since the winter. She is grown so brown and coarse! Louisa and I were agreeing that we should not have known her again."

However little Darcy liked such an address, he contented himself with coolly replying that he perceived no other alteration than her being rather tanned - no miraculous consequence of traveling in the summer. He turned to face the fire so as to not let any of his anger show. When Miss Bingley rose from her seat, he took it.

"For my own part," she rejoined, "I must confess that I never could see any beauty in her. Her face is too thin; her complexion has no brilliancy; and her features are not at all handsome. Her nose wants character; there is nothing marked in its lines. Her teeth are tolerable, but not out of the common way. And as for her eyes, which have sometimes been called so fine, I never could perceive any thing extraordinary in them. They have a sharp, shrewish look, which I do not like at all; and in her air altogether, there is a self-sufficiency without fashion which is intolerable."

Though Darcy was somewhat nettled, he was resolutely silent. Bingley, ashamed for his sister, began, "I think - "

"I remember, when we first knew her in Hertfordshire, how amazed we all were to find that she was a reputed beauty," continued Miss Bingley, cutting off her brother, "and I particularly recollect your saying one night, Mr Darcy, after that Meryton Assembly, _She_ a beauty! I should as soon call her mother a wit!'" She laughed heartily with Mrs Hurst at this recollection, then said, "But afterwards she seemed to improve on you. I even believe you thought her rather pretty at one time."

"Yes I did," replied Darcy, who could contain himself no longer, "but that was only when I first knew her." He rose from his seat, drew himself up to his full height and looked at Miss Bingley challengingly.

"For it has been many months since I have considered her as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance!"

Miss Bingley looked shocked, then shamed, then she hung her head in defeat.

There was little encouragement to continue any activity after that outburst. Mrs Hurst declared herself fatigued and woke her husband to go to bed. Miss Bingley quickly followed suit. Bingley gave his friend an apologetic glance then hurried after his sisters. He could be heard chastising them for their behaviour.

Darcy did not care. This had been one of the best days of his life.

It was getting very late, but sleep could not claim Darcy. He lit a candle, determined to conduct a quick patrol of the house to see that everything had gone well in his absence.

Most of the servants had already retired for the night and so the house was dark. Darcy did not mind, he could see easily enough. Two of his dogs silently accompanied him on his solitary stroll.

Though he thought he was walking aimlessly, he found himself heading for the music room, where that magical moment had occurred.

He placed the candle on the mantle over the fireplace. He sighed and leaned against it. He looked up at the piano.

Unbidden, the image of Elizabeth rose from his memory. He could see her; her beautiful face framed by her dark curls, they way her eyes had sparkled when she smiled at him.

It was very likely that Elizabeth returned his affections. But his modesty prevented him from being sure. Though they were no longer enemies, they were most certainly not lovers. Friends, perhaps.

And there was only one way he could strengthen that friendship.

Confession, apology and forgiveness, his mother had once told him, were the tools friends used to break walls down into bridges. And afterwards, the relationship would be much stronger.

He headed back to bed, determined to see Elizabeth the next morning.

And when he did see her, he would apologise for his past actions.


	36. Chapter 36

Part 36 - Fortune's Fool

Elizabeth was on his mind when he fell asleep, and when he woke up. As soon as he had dressed, Darcy was off riding across the field on his horse to Lambton. He was impatient to see her again. He whipped his horse faster.

Darcy intended to invite her again to dine at Pemberley and also, to apologise to Elizabeth for everything he had done in the past.

And maybe, just maybe, his apology would end in the same way he had dreamt it.

The innkeeper grinned as he saw who his visitor was. Before Darcy could even voice his request, the man had called his daughter and told her to go up and announce Mr Darcy to Miss Bennet.

Darcy laughed and gave the man some coins.

"Thankyou."

"Always ready to help, good master," said the innkeeper.

Darcy quickly ascended the stairs, just as Hannah opened the door and say, "If you please ma'am!"

Darcy quickly entered. "Miss Bennet, I - "

He stopped short as he saw her. She was pale and looked as if she was about to burst into tears, faint or both at once.

Elizabeth spoke rapidly, "I beg your pardon, but I must leave you. I must find Mr. Gardiner this moment, on business that cannot be delayed; I have not a moment to lose."

"Good God, what is the matter?" cried he with more feeling than politeness. He recovered himself and continued, "I will not detain you a minute, but let me go, or let the servant, go after Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner." He gestured towards the door, about to leave that very minute but the hint of rebellion in Elizabeth's eyes made him say, "You are not well enough; you cannot go yourself."

"No, I must," said she. She tried to push past him but he firmly took her arm and lead her to a chair.

"Come, I insist - it will be for the best." He had to stay with her, so he called out the door, "Hello there!"

Hannah appeared at once.

"Can we have Mr and Mrs Gardiner fetched here at once! They walked in the direction of - " here he looked at Elizabeth.

"The church," said she in so breathless an accent as made her almost unintelligible.

"The church!"

Hannah bobbed a curtsey.

"Yes sir, at once!" She left, closing the door behind her.

Concerned, Darcy turned his attention back to Elizabeth. Placing his hat and cane on the table, he leaned forward, never letting go of her hand.

"Let me call your maid. Is there nothing you could take, to give you present relief?" asked he in a tone of gentleness and commiseration. "A glass of wine; shall I get you one? You are very ill."

"No, I thank you," she replied, endeavouring to recover herself. "There is nothing the matter with me. I am quite well. I am only distressed by some dreadful news which I have just received from Longbourn."

As she alluded to this, she burst into tears. Darcy, in wretched suspense, observed her in compassionate silence.

Seeing her so upset, he was nearly overcome by the impulse to take her in his arms and ease that hurt away. He restrained it, for though relations had improved between them, he doubted that she would appreciate such an action.

 _Whatever has made her so upset, I swear I shall right it!_

At length, her sobs stopped. In control of herself again, she looked away from him and said, "Please forgive me."

"No, no . . . " replied he in a voice full of emotion. He let go of her hand to grip his chair tightly. She was so close - her eyes glowing with tears maddened him.

 _Get a grip on yourself!_

"I have just had a letter from Jane, with such dreadful news. It cannot be concealed from any one. My youngest sister has left all her friends - has eloped; has thrown herself into the power of . . . of Mr. Wickham."

Darcy was shocked, though he did his best to keep his face stony.

 _Oh, God, no._

"They are gone off together from Brighton," continued she. " _You_ know him too well to doubt the rest. She has no money, no connections, nothing that can tempt him to she is lost for ever."

Her voice was trembling, he looked into her beautiful eyes that were brimming with tears that he longed to kiss away. He closed his eyes to shut out that dainty vision of her sweet face. Knowing that if he stayed so close to her, he might do something rash, he quickly got out of his chair and moved a safer distance away, turning his back to her.

"When I consider," she added sobbing, in a yet more agitated voice, "that I might have prevented it! I who knew what he was. Had I but explained some part of it only - some part of what I learnt - to my own family! Had his character been known, this could not have happened. But it is all, all too late now."

 _It is no fault of yours. I should have told you all when I knew he was in Meryton._

He wanted so much to tell her this, for her to confide turn to him for comfort and assistance. But such thoughts were selfish at a time like this, when her distress, not his emotions, needed to be healed.

 _But had you told the world of Wickham's character, everything he has done since Ramsgate could have been avoided. Elizabeth would never have believed his lies and this whole elopement couldn't have taken place - had you exposed him._

 _This disaster is my fault - because of my lack of foresight, her family has been disgraced._

There was no way he could expect her to return his love now, not after this. All he could do was try to amend things, even if it meant finding Wickham out personally and hauling Lydia back to Longbourn.

 _Wickham! Damn the man!_ Had Wickham been in the room, he would have fled from Darcy's angry glare.

"I am grieved, indeed," cried Darcy; "grieved - shocked. But is it certain, absolutely certain?"

"Oh yes! They left Brighton together on Sunday night, and were traced almost to London, but not beyond; they are certainly not gone to Scotland."

Darcy thought. If Wickham had not yet married Lydia Bennet, there was still a chance that this situation could be mended.

"And what has been done, what has been attempted, to recover her?" He walked to the window, thinking.

"My father is gone to London, and Jane has written to beg my uncle's immediate assistance, and we shall be off, I hope, in half an hour. But nothing can be done; I know very well that nothing can be done. How is such a man to be worked on? How are they even to be discovered? I have not the smallest hope. She is gone forever, and our whole family must partake in her ruin and disgrace. It is every way horrible!"

Darcy turned to face her. So she was leaving - possibly forever. She would certainly never come to Pemberley again, and he shuddered at the thought of going to Hertfodshire, where he would be constantly reminded that he had caused the ruin of the whole Bennet family.

He would never see Elizabeth again - and his life was nothing without silently resolved to dedicate the remainder of his life to securing the happiness of those he loved. Whatever he had to endure in the years to come, perhaps this would give his existence some value, some meaning.

"When my eyes were opened to his real character - Oh! had I known what I ought, what I dared, to do! But I knew not - I was afraid of doing too much. Wretched, wretched, mistake!"

Darcy made no answer. He scarcely heard her, and was walking up and down the room in earnest meditation; his brow contracted, his air gloomy. He had to fix this mess, and he resolved to instantly go to London, hunt out the two fugitives and either bring Lydia home, or, God forbid it, make Wickham and Lydia marry.

Darcy spoke, in a manner, which though it spoke compassion, spoke likewise restraint, said, "I am afraid you have been long desiring my absence, nor have I any thing to plead in excuse of my stay, but real, though unavailing, concern. Would to heaven that any thing could be either said or done on my part, that might offer consolation to such distress! But I will not torment you with vain wishes, which may seem purposely to ask for your thanks. This unfortunate affair will, I fear, prevent my sister's having the pleasure of seeing you at Pemberley to-day."

"Oh, yes. Be so kind as to apologize for us to Miss Darcy. Say that urgent business calls us home immediately. Conceal the unhappy truth as long as it is possible. I know it cannot be long."

"You can be assured of my secrecy," said he. There was no way he was going to make a bad situation worse by telling the whole world of it.

But he had to leave her now - forever.

"I have stayed too long. I shall leave you now."

He picked his belongings up from the table. Elizabeth rose from her seat. There were still tears in her eyes.

"Yes, thank you." She curtsied, he bowed.

"Goodbye."

Darcy opened the door. He looked back at Elizabeth, at the face he so loved, but would never see again.

He left.

Darcy arrived home and as he handed his horse to the head groom, he told the man to ready his carriage and the four fastest horses for a journey to London. He then continued to the house itself.

Georgiana had been waiting for him but Darcy's despairing look stopped her short.

"I need to leave for London, Georgiana," said he.

"But you have only just arrived!"

"This is urgent. I will leave in an hour."

Georgiana, seeing her brother was resolved in going, begged him to wait until the next morning. He relented, and proceeded to make the necessary arrangements to go to London.

That evening, the whole party listened to Georgiana play. Ever since yesterday, she seemed more confident in performing and had needed little encouragement. When she had finished, they all applauded, except Darcy who was lost in his own black mood.

Again, Wickham had upset his dreams! Whenever things had looked bright, there he was, a sneaking snake, bringing darkness to blot out the light of his hopes.

And now, again, relations between him and Elizabeth had crumbled.

He heard Miss Bingley speak to him, but he only caught the name she mentioned.

" . . . Miss Eliza Bennet."

"What?" he snapped.

 _If she was insulting her again, I will not be responsible for any harm I amy do to her! I am sick of all her games!_

Everyone in the room looked at him.

"Excuse me."

He got up, fixed his black coat and left the room.

Tortured again by dark thoughts, he could not sleep. Elizabeth's tear-streaked face haunted him whenever he closed his eyes. She blamed herself for Lydia's disgrace when actually the fault lay with him.

Darcy silently vowed, that though he would never share her life, he would make certain that her life - without him - would be happy.

The next morning found Darcy grimly determined, alone in the magnificent carriage that was hurtling down the road as fast as the four chestnut horses could pull it.


	37. Chapter 37

Part 37 - Money Matters

Along the journey to London, Darcy had ample time to think over his plan to find Wickham and Lydia Bennet. Certain that Wickham had kept up his relations with Mrs Younge, Georgiana's former companion, Darcy resolved upon contacting her.

The moment he had stepped into his London townhouse, he headed for his study. Being a man who preferred a neat, ordered method of keeping records, it was not long before he had located the information on Mrs Younge when she had been in his service.

And so it was, that evening found Darcy in a relatively bad part of London.

The streets were crowded, dirty and noisy. Children ran along the road, heedless of the carts and horses. Here and there a drunk lounged in the gutter, women drying clothes at the window shouted across the street regardless of who heard them.

Darcy did his best to ignore the sounds as well as the stares people aimed at him, obviously unused to seeing a gentlemen in their midst. He looked at each house, searching for the one rented by Mrs Younge.

Finally he came across it. He rapped on the door. The door opened slightly and a man opened it. Darcy could not see much of his face, but the man's eyes had the look of one who was hunted. Not recognising Darcy as anyone he knew, the man opened the door wider.

"Can I 'elp you sir?" he asked.

"Yes. Is there a Mrs Younge here?"

"Mrs Younge? You'd be talking 'bout the lady who rented this place afore me." He made as if to shut the door. Darcy held it open.

"Do you know where she has moved to?"

The man looked Darcy up and down.

"I might . . . "

Darcy reached into his pocket and took out a few coins of relatively high denomination.

The money was taken. The man glanced at it and shoved somewhere into the recesses of is grimy apron.

"She's moved to Edward Street. Left this place 'cause some of the dealings she held 'ere were less than legal." He scowled. "The runners keep coming here now and again."

 _But you have not informed them about her. No doubt you also have shady dealings to hide._

"And where is Edward Street?" asked Darcy coldly.

The man grumbled but said, "It's somewhere over thataway."

Darcy held up two more coins.

The man closed the door behind him and walked down the street, pointing directions.

"Alright sir. Walk down to the end of the street and turn right. Then across the square and turn left. Then go to the third street on the left, under the arch, and it's either the fourth or fifth road on your right."

Darcy repeated this to the man, making sure he remembered it all.

"You're good. Get a drink for the gentlemen!" he yelled to a someone.

A boy appeared with a cup of water. Darcy drank it gratefully and gave the boy a shilling.

"I thank you sir for the information," said he to the anonymous man.

"Always ready to help you gentle-folk," replied he. He grinned toothily. "What you be wanting Mrs Younge for anyway, eh?"

"I need to settle an account," replied Darcy, his face hard.

Determined, he set off again, leaving the unknown member of the populace standing, wondering.

He walked along, repeating the directions over and over again under his breath. He followed them to the letter, pushing past people as he went along.

Night had fallen by this time, and he was both thankful and tense because of it. Thankful because the darkness made it harder for him to see the beggars, the miserable and those who were better left unknown. Tense, because the darkness made it easier for some desperate man to try his luck with Darcy.

 _If anyone is foolhardy enough to try and attack, they will soon regret it . . ._ thought Darcy darkly. But some part of him welcomed such an exchange of blows. The last few days had left him eager to vent his frustration, anger and despair on some unfortunate wretch. As it was, the only evidence of his dark mood was one broken glass at his townhouse.

But no one tried to stop him. He walked carefully, trying his best to avoid the filth that covered the roads. Painfully aware that his fine clothes made him stand out amongst the local populace, he kept his head down, only looking up to check for the next road.

He turned left. The roads were crowded at this time of night. He passed a disruptable looking inn. Bawdy singing floated out the window. Grubby, hungry children scrounged the street for anything of value or to be eaten, while beggars whined and held out their hands.

A man pushed past him, and hurried on his way. Disorientated, Darcy looked around. Seeing a beggar-child standing in the shadows, he approached her. At first, the girl cringed at the sight of him, but he spoke kindly.

"Hello little one," he said softly.

The girl looked up at him with hungry eyes.

 _And how many others like her are there?_ Darcy thought.

"Do you know where Mrs Younge lives?"

The girl nodded.

"Can you tell me?"

"Yessir. She's in a house, down this road - " she pointed behind her, " - and Edward Street on your right. It's the big house, one the corner."

"Thank you child."

He pressed some coins into her dirty hand. She stared at them for a moment, then ran off.

Darcy continued down the dark road.

He found the house. Compared to the ones close by, it was large and clean.

Darcy rapped smartly on the door with his cane. It was opened to reveal two women. One he assumed was the housekeeper. The other was Mrs Younge.

His expression was hard and cold. Almost exactly the way she must have seen him last, when he dismissed her from his service.

She tried to shut the door, but Darcy forced it open. He entered the house, bending slightly to account for his hat.

"Mrs Younge . . . "

The lady in question looked at him as if seeing her judge for all her past actions. The door was closed behind him.

"What do you want with me?" she asked, fear tinging her voice. Darcy knew that she knew that he had the power to have any unpleasant retribution he wished.

Darcy did not answer immediately. He took off his hat and gloves and proceeded into the next room. It was simple yet orderly furnished. He motioned for Mrs Younge to be seated. When she had done so, he glanced at the other woman. She understood his meaning and left the room, closing the only door in or out of it behind her.

"Where is he." he said without any preamble.

"Who?"

"Mrs Younge, you know exactly the man I am speaking of. Where is he?"

"I do not know who you are speaking of," said the woman, not looking at him.

Darcy did not answer to this immediately. He sighed and spoke.

"I know perfectly well that you have kept your relations with Wickham since last year," he said as unemotionally as possible. "I know that you know his current whereabouts. For the third time, Mrs Younge, where is he?"

"How should I know where Mr Wickham is? I have not spoken or seen him since last year," said she stubbornly. She still did not look at him.

Her body language was the same that she had displayed when he spoke to her at Ramsgate. _I am sure she knows where he is._

"Madam," said he coldly. "You know who I am. I know that you are aware of Wickham's location. Is he here in this house? Or somewhere else?"

"As I have said before, sir, I _do not know where Wickham is!_ "

"I must know, madam. You will tell me."

"I will not."

There was a clock on the wall. Darcy glanced at it. It was very late. Though his mind was still active, his body was exhausted. He had not rested ever since he had left Pemberley. How could he rest, knowing Elizabeth was in such trouble?

"The night is too far advanced for us to talk in any depth, Mrs Younge," said Darcy, opening the door. "But believe me, I will return tomorrow." He put on his gloves and hat, then said, "And if you are thinking of being absent from the house tomorrow, I would would hate to have to alert the Bow Street Runners of this place."

At this threat, Mrs Younge blanched and drew a quick breath.

"You cannot prove anything!"

Darcy looked down at her for a long moment.

"You know me, Mrs Younge. You know that I am sincere. I will know Wickham's location sooner or later."

He left her and the disruptable part of London for his home.

He lay awake for most of the night. Elizabeth's tear-streaked face haunted him. In his mind, he saw himself in the Lambton Inn, putting his arms around her and whispering into her ear, "It will be right, it will be right. I will help you. I love you."

Then she would look up at him, saying that she trusted him, that she believed in him to set the wrong right.

But it was all a dream. Elizabeth was far away, trying to comfort her family when she herself was in need of comfort. Her family's good name, which had been stained with Lydia's folly, which could have been prevented had Darcy chose to tell the world of his dealings with Wickham.

So it was that the present circumstances found Darcy in London, trying to find the man he hated above all others, a girl who he could not respect, going so far as to threaten and most probably, bribe the woman who had orchestrated Georgiana's near-downfall - all because of his love for a woman who did not love him.

True to his word, Darcy returned to Mrs Younge. This day found her no more willing than the night before. She refused to tell him of Wickham's whereabouts, though with every passing minute, Darcy became even more sure that she knew where he was.

He was certain she was not hiding Wickham herself. Miss Lydia, he was sure, was not the type of girl who would submit herself to any prolonged inaction. He had not heard or seen any trace of Lydia in the house.

He left the house that day no more successful than last night.

For a third time, he visited Mrs Younge. He had cajoled her, threatened her but still she refused to tell him, though her resolution he knew was beginning to waver. She had finally admitted to knowing that Wickham was in London and hinted that she did indeed know where he resided and that he had a girl with him, but she would not reveal his location.

On this visit, he had taken a modest amount of money with him. If threats would not loosen her tongue, he was sure that an offer of thirty guineas would.

"You are wasting your time, sir, coming here again. I will not tell you where Wickham is," said Mrs Younge upon his first entering the room. But Darcy saw that the defiance in her eyes had diminished to be replaced with fear. Darcy made no answer. He paced the room and looked out the window at the figures passing by.

"How does your present situation go, Mrs Younge?" he asked conversationally. "Letting lodgings, I believe, is not so profitable as being a paid companion or governess."

"I beg your pardon? What do you mean?"

"But I suppose that your pay while in my employ was inflated. If I remember correctly, a few objects from my house disappeared last year, never to be found."

"I know nothing of that!"

"The magistrate might not believe you."

Mrs Younge paled.

"You have no proof."

Tired of all this beating about the bush, Darcy turned to her and placed the thirty guineas on the table between him and Mrs Younge. She stared st the money hungrily.

Darcy spoke softly. "Mrs Younge, I am willing to forget our past dealings, and will say no word of them to anyone. But I _will_ know where Wickham is. I am willing to give you this sum - if you will tell me."

For a long moment, Mrs Younge stared at the substantial amount of money. Finally, she spoke.

"He and the girl came to my house first. I would have taken them in but had no room for them. They have rented a small room not far from here, in Watling Street."

Finding some paper and ink, Darcy put these in front of Mrs Younge.

"Write down the address and directions from here."

She complied. Darcy read it and put it safely in his pocket. As he did so, he noticed a small smile of triumph. He paused and said darkly,

"If you have played me false, madam, I can assure you that tomorrow will see you in a magistrate's court."

Mrs Younge violently snatched another piece of paper and wrote down another address and directions. She slammed the writing implement down and glared at Darcy.

"I thank you madam, for your generosity," said Darcy, dripping sarcasm. He took the paper and placed the false one on the table next to the money.

He left the house, never to return again.


	38. Chapter 38

Part 38: Preliminary Negotiations

The part of London where Darcy was this time was, if it was possible, even worse than the area where he had found Mrs. Younge. There was little light, except that which spilled onto the street from shuttered windows. Some looked around furtively in the manner of hunted men. Across the road, stood some scantily dressed women who beckoned to any man passing. Children, their faces dirty, impertinent and ragged, chased each other in the gutters. Once, Darcy had caught a young boy with his small hand reaching into his coat pocket. He had given the child some coins and told him to be on his way. On the face of every man, woman and child was an expression of desperation and hopelessness.

 _What a place to bring a young lady._

 _He_ was hiding somewhere near. The crowded neighborhood made it easier for such a man to hide himself away.

But the man had a young lady with him, a lady who had no claim on Darcy apart from being the youngest sister of the one he loved. And for his love's happiness, Darcy would go to the ends of the world to find Mr George Wickham and Miss Lydia Bennet.

What he was going to do when he found the pair, Darcy did not know. He only knew that Wickham's desire for money was a weakness that could be exploited.

But he had to be very careful not to give Wickham any advantage or let him see any weaknesses in himself. If he did so, Wickham could get whatever he wished from him.

 _If they be married, then I shall give them as much financial support as I can. If they are not, then it shall merely be a case of taking Lydia home to her family._

In a dark alleyway, Darcy glanced down at the paper he was holding. If the directions Mrs Younge had given him were correct, Harwood Street was at the end of the alley.

He continued to the exit. A woman passed in front of him and entered the building immediately to his left. He stood in front of the building and looked up, then left.

 _Is this the right place?_

A wooden sign hanging on the front told Darcy the building was an inn. Seeing no other inns along the road, he glanced up.

There was a face at the window. The figure looked away, then stared directly at him. Soon, it was joined by another taller figure who took one look at Darcy then rapidly disappeared. The second figure was a very familiar one.

He walked determinedly to the door. He opened it and asked the startled innkeeper,

"I wish to see two of your guests, a man by the name of Wickham who brought a young lady with him called Miss Lydia Bennet."

The innkeeper gestured towards the stairs.

"Of course, sir. Up the stairs, last room on your left."

Without acknowledging the man Darcy ascended the staircase. Finding the room, he knocked on it.

There was no answer. He knocked again, this time more firmly.

He could hear sounds of a disagreement on the other side of the door.

"It has been absolute ages since we've had any fun. I'm letting him in!"

The door was opened by Lydia Bennet. She was dressed for bed in a pink robe.

"Good evening, Miss Bennet," said Darcy in a detached tone.

"Mr Darcy, what a surprise!" exclaimed Lydia. "What are doing here?"

He ignored the question. "May I enter?"

"Of course." She stood aside as he walked past her then shut the door.

Wickham was standing in the middle of the room, wide-eyed but otherwise revealed none of the emotion he was undoubtedly feeling. Disheveled, shirt unbuttoned and traces of wine about his person he looked nothing like the 'gentleman' Darcy had seen briefly in Meryton.

Neither spoke for some time. Even Lydia somehow sensed the tension between them and stayed silent.

Darcy looked about the room. It was small, with a sloping ceiling. There was an unused fireplace, two chairs, table with wine on it and a folding screen. He noticed disgustedly, that there was only one bed.

"I trust you are well, Miss Bennet?" said he, removing his gloves and hat.

"Yes sir, thank you."

None of them corrected his address to her. His hope rose; they were not married and he could take Lydia away from Wickham and that would be the end of the matter.

"And you, Mr Wickham?"

"I am also quite well, sir," replied he, never taking his eyes off Darcy.

"I apologise for this intrusion at this late hour, but I need to speak to Mr Wickham about a rather urgent matter. I also need to speak to you, Miss Bennet," said Darcy.

"Of course. I am at your service," said Wickham mockingly. He sat at the table and motioned Darcy towards he other chair. Darcy did not move.

"Alone."

A look of fear appeared in Wickham's eyes. He slowly got up. Darcy opened the door and motioned for Wickham to precede him. Darcy closed the door.

In the corridor, Wickham looked at him.

"Where to now, Darcy?"

Wordlessly, Darcy gestured towards the stairs. He followed Wickham down.

In the common room, the rowdy, partly drunk crowd did not notice Darcy's presence. Seeing them, the innkeeper approached them.

" 'Ow can I be of service to ye?" he asked wiping his hands.

"I require a private room, not for overnight, merely for discussion," said Darcy.

The innkeeper looked him up and down, then held out his hand. After Darcy gave him a coin, the man opened a door on the far side of the inn. Five men sat inside around a table holding cards. They looked up at the innkeeper's entrance and glared. The innkeeper barked at them and they hurriedly left.

"Thank you," said Darcy, entering the room behind Wickham. "Would you please see that we are not disturbed?"

The innkeeper grinned toothily and shut the door.

Darcy sat between the door and Wickham, who was seated opposite and watching him warily.

"What do you want with me?"

Darcy looked at him. "Our past has no reflection on this. I am here on present circumstance alone. I am not concerned about you, only for the young lady whom you have persuaded to come away with you."

"And why do you care for her, a girl so wholly unconnected with you?

"My reasons are my own. I should ask why did you convince her to flee with you when she has nothing to do with you or your debts."

"Chamberlyne was to go to Forster the next morning. I needed to leave at once, but there was a ball that evening and out of everyone there, only Lydia would have noticed my absence. I persuaded her to come with me on the pretence of an elopement, therefore allowing myself more time for my escape. Besides," smirked Wickham, "I was not at all adverse to having female companionship along the way."

Darcy looked at Wickham in disbelief. "And so to buy her silence, you made her and offer of _marriage_? I gave you more credit for cunning than that."

"Marry? Who said anything about marrying her?"

"You do not intend to marry her? Mr. Bennet may not be very rich but surely he could have done something for you if you were to marry his daughter."

"Marry one of the Bennet sisters? Of course not! I need to make my fortune, Darcy." Wickham scowled. "Some of us do not have the good luck as to have been born to wealth and power. I intend to gain it by marriage either here or in some other country." He paused and thought. "But I suppose if I had to marry one of the Bennet sisters, it certainly wouldn't be that feather-head upstairs. Elizabeth would have been my choice I suppose. Not quite so pretty as your sister, true but certainly with more spirit. But that would have been broken once I had my way with her."

In a flash, Darcy reached across the table and grabbed Wickham by his shirt. Wickham's eyes grew wide with fear, but then he gave a smirk.

"What's the matter, Darcy?" he said. "Don't like me abusing little Lizzy? No, I believe it was it the insult to your sister that has stung you."

"We are here to talk about your future, and nothing else," said Darcy through clenched teeth. "So keep your lying tongue silent and your filthy mind on the business at hand."

He threw Wickham back against the chair and breathed deeply, trying to regain control. It had actually been the reference to Elizabeth, but as long as Wickham believed it was the reference to Georgiana, who was safe and content at Pemberley, he had given no advantage to Wickham.

Calm, he turned back to Wickham sprawled in his chair.

"What do you intend to do?" he asked.

Wickham shrugged. "Resign my commission for one. Military life holds no interest for me any more. As for my future situation I confess I can conjecture very little about it."

Darcy tried his best to control his temper. "Can you even comprehend the trouble you have gotten Miss Bennet into? Do you not even care?"

Wickham looked at Darcy with an expression of indifference.

"I take no blame for her actions. She knew what she was letting herself in for when I told her. You cannot blame me for her decisions. The responsibility is hers alone."

"You accept no responsibility?" asked Darcy, shocked.

"Does it go against your principles, Darcy?"

Darcy shook his head disgusted. "Whenever I think that you can sink no lower, I find that I am mistaken."

"Now that you have found me I suppose I will have to leave London."

"Where would you go?"

"I do not know. I have nothing to live on. I cannot keep Lydia so she will have to be dropped off some place."

"You care for no one except yourself!"

"Of course. I am a survivor of many hardships - which are of your infliction!" spat Wickham. "If it were not for you, I could be living comfortably without this continual worry over money and live like you, a gentleman."

Darcy thought. He had been correct - Wickham's financial situation was something that could be used to make the man co-operate. But in the end, what he did for Wickham depended on Miss Lydia Bennet.

"What is your position at the present moment?" he asked Wickham.

"My debts, I suppose would be" - he calculated under his breath - "a sum considerably more than a thousand pounds. To me it is a source of worry - for man such as you it is merely a small matter."

Darcy shook his head. "I am prepared to help you."

Wickham froze. "What was that?" he asked.

"I am willing to help you. How I assist you will depend on Miss Bennet who is waiting upstairs. I will do my best to persuade her to quit her present situation and I will take her back to her family. I will discharge your debts, give you two thousand pounds and leave you to your own devices."

"What is the catch?" asked Wickham suspiciously.

"That you keep silent about your dealings with Miss Bennet. And you must never have any contact with me, Miss Bennet or any of our relations ever again."

"And if she does not wish to leave me? You have seen my powers at work, Darcy - you know what a hold I can have over an innocent lady who is easily influenced."

Darcy grimaced, but refused to rise to the bait. "Then we will speak some more." He stood up.

"Those are my conditions. If you decline, I will not help you and you will go to a debtor's prison. Do you accept them?" He held out his hand.

Wickham thought for a moment. He leaned forward and shook his hand, his eyes never leaving Darcy's.

"Then it is settled. You shall wait here whilst I speak with Miss Bennet." Darcy opened the door but paused before leaving.

"There is no where you can run to if that is what you are thinking," he said without turning around. "I will find you and besides, if you leave this room you have nothing but the clothes you wear. I advise that it is in your best interests that you co-operate."

"I wouldn't dare entertain such a notion," replied Wickham sarcastically.

Darcy left the room.

He did not trust Wickham, and so gave the innkeeper some money to make sure Wickham did not leave the inn. As an after thought, he sent a tankard of wine to Wickham.

The crowd in the common room had grown louder and rowdier. Darcy ascended the stairs and returned to the room.

Finding the door unlocked, he entered and found Lydia lying on the bed, a bored look on her face and her eyes closed.

"Miss Bennet," said Darcy softly in case she was asleep.

She was not asleep for her eyes flew open.

"Oh, so you are back? What took you so long? Where is Wickham?"

"He is downstairs," said Darcy shortly, closing the door. "Miss Bennet, we must talk."

"We do? What about?"

"Will you please be seated?"

She did as she was told. He remained standing, a grave expression on his face. He did not know Lydia very well, only that she was a flirt and was nearly as empty-headed as her mother, perhaps in some ways more so. Though she was Elizabeth's sister, she was nothing like her. He had never had to deal with such a person before had was at a loss at how to do so.

In the end, Lydia spoke first.

"Well? Why do you look so serious, sir?"

"The things of which I am to speak to you about are of a serious nature, Miss Bennet," began Darcy. "Your elopement - are you aware of the effect your action has had on people?"

"Is that all? I would not know, though I am sure all my sisters are green with envy. Mama is probably pleased to have one daughter married at last. She had thought Mr Bingley would marry Jane but then he left and - "

Darcy stared at the girl, no more than sixteen, with an expression of amazement. She was totally ignorant of the seriousness of her action or what chaos it had thrown her family into.

"Miss Bennet, your family is worried sick about you!" he said cutting her off. "Your sister had to cut her journey short and return home at once when she heard about this elopement and if she is an example of your family's current state, your family is not well at all. Your father has come to London in search of you and I believe your uncle is to join him, if he has not already done so."

Lydia frowned. "Why should they be so worried? I am going to be married, doesn't that make them happy?"

"It is not only that feelings of your relations that is at stake here, your reputation - in fact the reputation of your entire family is at risk. I do not believe you fully understand the severity of your actions. This elopement is a scandal and the entire world will look down on you and your entire family for it." He took a deep breath. "But it is not too late - the situation can be redeemed if you return home at once and show repentance for your folly. If this is done I dare say your reputation will suffer no permanent injury. I will help you and bring you home. Your youth can be the excuse for such an error of judgment"

Lydia's eyes blazed. "An _error_ of judgment? Is that what you call it - an _error_ of lodgement? Mr Darcy, I have made the best decision I have ever made in my life!" She crossed her arms and looked defiantly up at him. "I am not leaving Wickham!"

Darcy stared at her. "Miss Bennet, I beg you to reconsider - "

"No sir, I am not leaving this room unless it is to go to the church to be married! I care not what my family thinks, or the opinion of the world. I am resolved to act in that matter which will in my opinion, constitue my own happiness, without reference to you or any other person. I do not want your help, I do not want to return home as Miss Bennet, only as Mrs Wickham."

"Mrs Wickham? You believe you are to be married to him?"

"Of course! He told me he loves me, why else would I have left with him? We will be married, I do not know when but we _will_ be married."

"Miss Bennet, do you know what you are letting yourself in for, in a marriage to Mr Wickham? Do you know his true nature? Miss Bennet, you will regret such a decision. It is in your best interests to leave this place at once and let me accompany you to your uncle's house."

"How dare you have the presumption to tell me what is in my best interests! They are _my_ interests. But I suppose I should not be surprised. Lizzy was right. You are the most arrogant man alive!"

Darcy sighed. He did not want to think of Elizabeth right now, such a distraction was not right at the present moment. Nevertheless, he was hurt by what Elizabeth had said. He told himself that it was before they had met each other at Pemberley.

"Miss Bennet I apologise. I admit that my past behaviour to your family has given you ample right to see me as such. But my character is not under discussion. You do not know Wickham's catalogue of his past offenses - I do."

"Perhaps not, but I do know _your_ offenses against him. You wish him harm and persuading me to leave him is just another of your plots. Well, sir, I shall not yield. I repeat, I am not leaving my dear Wickham. I am going to marry him from Longbourn, all my sisters will be my bridesmaids and be exceedingly jealous but Mama shall be so happy."

Darcy's heart sank.

"And this is your final resolve? You have considered that such a connection will disgrace you in the eyes of the world?"

"Yes."

"If that is so, I shall try no more to dissuade you. I apologise if I have offended you - my desire for you and your family's well-being is the only excuse I can offer. I shall see that you two are married as soon as possible." He picked up his hat. "If you will excuse me."

Lydia smiled. "Thank you."

Darcy did not answer but left the room and went downstairs.

 _And so this is the way things will be._


	39. Chapter 39

Part 39: A visit to Cheapside

On Saturday Darcy paused before knocking on the door to the Gardiner's house in Cheapside. Mr Edward Gardiner had given his address to him that long-ago summer's day when they had gone fishing at Darcy's estate in Derbyshire. Taking a beep breath, Darcy thought over what he was to say to Mr Gardiner.

It was a week since he had visited Wickham and Lydia. The reason for the delay in finding the fugitives and the visit to the Gardiners was that his negotiations with Wickham had for some time been going nowhere. When Wickham had found out that he and Lydia were to be married, he had ranted and raved that there was no way he would spend the rest of his life attached to her and swore that he would leave as soon as possible. After listening to this tirade for some ten minutes, Darcy had calmly announced that it would be in Wickham's best interests if he married Lydia, for Darcy was still willing to assist Wickham.

Negotiations then began. It was agreed that all of Wickham's debts would be paid - a sum of more than a thousand pounds. It was the only thing they had agreed on, for when the subject of Wickham's future was brought up, one could not agree with the other.

Wickham, of course, had wanted more than Darcy was willing to give. He had expressed his desire for a small estate of 'no more than three thousand a year' in order to become a member of the landed gentry with no cost to himself in comparison to Bingley's family who had worked hard to gain their present position. It was implied that Darcy would give Wickham land from his own large estate of Pemberley. Darcy had steadfastly refused to comply, and Wickham had steadfastly refused to back down.

They had met again the next day and the day after that. After the third meeting, Wickham had grudgingly relented to set his sights a bit lower. Entering a trade was discussed and each of Darcy's suggestions discarded. Wickham had no intention of studying the law, becoming a merchant, practising medicine or any other trade. The Church was out of the question; Darcy would not allow a man of Wickham's morality to set a spiritual example for any parish.

The only feasible alternatives left was a career in one of the military disciplines, the Navy or the Army. Wickham wanted to go into the Navy, the more prestigious of the two as England commanded the greatest naval forces in the world but was impossible because of his age. Therefore, it was to be the Army regulars instead of the militia. As soon as they had agreed upon it, Darcy had written to Colonel Fitzwilliam, informing him of the basic facts that he believed was needed and requesting for some arrangement. His reply was helpful, though the writer had no doubt written it in a state of great curiosity, Darcy inferred from the general tone of his cousin's letter. Colonel Fitzwilliam said that it was possible to get an ensigncy in a regiment in Newcastle.

Wickham had been duly informed of this new arrangement, and after some characteristic grumbling, it was agreed on as pleasing to both parties.

All this had taken up to that Saturday morning. Over the grueling week, Darcy had frequently asked himself just why he was taking so much trouble to assist the man he hated. He told himself that it was his fault, of not informing others of Wickham's bad character and so preventing situations like this. Sometimes he just wanted to forget the whole affair and pretend it was no business of his - he frequently returned to his townhouse in London late in the night, tired and frustrated and ready to give up. But whenever such thoughts entered his mind, he remembered Elizabeth, upset and distraught with tears in her eyes after she had received news of Lydia's elopement. One thought of her and he was again determined to see the matter through to the end; not for Lydia's, certainly not for Wickham but for Elizabeth. And though he knew he would never see her again, at least he knew that he could ensure her happiness.

Darcy had come straight from Wickham and Lydia's lodgings to Cheapside in search of the Gardiners. As the affair involved the Bennets, he needed to inform a member of their family. Mr Bennet he did not know well enough in order to talk comfortably with him and no doubt the sentiment would have been equal.

Besides, he did not want Elizabeth to know out his involvement.

He had tried to visit Mr Gardiner yesterday but the servant had told him that he was talking to Mr Bennet, who would be leaving the next morning. Darcy left quickly without giving his name, only saying that a gentleman had called on business.

Now it was Saturday, Mr Bennet had hopefully left and he hoped that Mr Gardiner was in.

Darcy knocked on the door and it was opened by the servant. He asked to see Mr Gardiner.

"Yes sir, would you please wait here?" she said, gesturing to the drawing room. Darcy agreed and stood, hat in hand while the servant went to fetch Mr Gardiner.

When he appeared, he looked harried and tired, but the man's astonishment on seeing his visitor was evident.

"Mr Darcy, this is a pleasant surprise," said he. "What brings you here?"

"Good day, Mr Gardiner. I am here because I had located your niece, as well as Mr Wickham."

"You have?" At this, Mr Gardiner brightened up. "That is wonderful news! My brother and I have tried to but with no success. And how is Lydia?" he asked concerned.

Darcy grimaced slightly and sat. Mr Gardiner followed suit.

"She is well but also unmarried."

Mr Gardiner shook his head. "It is as Elizabeth feared then. What else?"

Darcy plunged into a description of how he had found Lydia and Wickham and of their current position. He told him of the arrangements he had taken the liberty of arranging and how all that was needed was Mr Gardiner's approval.

Mr Gardiner thought for a while, then said, "My I ask about the cost of all of this, his debts commission and such?"

Darcy expressionlessly named a figure that rendered Mr Gardiner speechless for a few moments. Before Mr Gardiner could speak another word, Darcy quickly added, "At the present it is only an estimate, though I expect it to rise rather than fall. I shall bear the cost of it all, there is no need to worry about that."

"Mr. Darcy, I cannot let you do that."

Darcy had expected such resistance and was determined not to give in. He changed the topic of conversation and asked where Mrs Gardiner and the children were.

"They are due to arrive back today. Madeline and the children have been at Longbourn this past week, for my brother's family was in great need of support after hearing about Lydia's elopement. Mr Bennet left this morning to return to his family." He paused. "Was it you who called yesterday?"

"Yes, it was."

"Why did you not see Mr Bennet? Surely he ought to know about this as well."

Darcy coughed. "I hope you will forgive me, sir, if I say that I felt that Mr Bennet was not a person whom I could so properly consult as you. In fact, I hope that you will comply with my wish and not inform any of his family of my involvement in this matter."

Mr Gardiner was surprised. "May I ask as to why you wish to remain anonymous?"

Darcy thought. He did not know any solid reason, only that he did not want Elizabeth to know about it. He did not want her to feel that she was indebted to him; he had done it out of love for her and that was all.

But he could say that to Elizabeth's uncle. He blushed slightly and said, "Forgive me if I choose not to answer that question."

Mr Gardiner nodded but gave the younger man a questioning look. Darcy looked back and smiled almost imperceptibly. Somehow, he was sure Mr Gardiner understood most of the meaning behind the smile.

He rose out of his chair. "I believe you are to be welcoming your family home soon. I would not wish to intrude upon it with matters of business. I will come again tomorrow."

Mr Gardiner offered him some refreshment before he left but Darcy declined. They shook hands and parted.

True to his word, Darcy visited the Gardiners again on Saturday, this time late in the evening when he hoped the children were in bed. He found Mr and Mrs Gardiner waiting for him. Mrs Gardiner greeted him warmly. She told him that her husband had related to her all that had passed in yesterday's meeting and so removing the need to repeat it all.

The main problems to be discussed, was how much was going to be settled on Wickham and Lydia and who was going to pay for it. When Darcy left them later that evening an amount had been decided but neither were willing to let the other bear the cost of such a large amount. They agreed to meet again on Monday and hopefully it would be settled.

The next evening found Mr Gardiner no more willing to relinquish the burden than before. But Darcy was obstinate. Every protest from Mr and Mrs Gardiner only made him more determined.

"I must be allowed to insist on this," said he, facing the Gardiners. "The fault is mine and so must the remedy be. It was through my mistake and pride, my reserve that Mr Wickham's character has not been made known to the world. Had I not thought it . . . beneath me to lay my private actions open to the world his character would have been exposed and this elopement could never have taken place."

"Mr. Gardiner, I believe you take too much upon yourself," said Mr. Gardiner. But Darcy sensed that his resolve was weakening.

"I must insist on this sir. I assure you in this matter argument is fruitless." He got up and extended his hand. "The responsibility is mine - I must have it, sir."

Mr Gardiner looked at his wife. Something passed between them that Darcy could not decipher. Whatever it was, Mr Gardiner sighed and accepted Darcy's hand and shook it.

Darcy held it for a moment then returned to his seat.

"But I understood, sir, that you did not wish to be acknowledged in this venture," said Mrs Gardiner. "We must tell Mr Bennet of this, but we cannot without some explanation."

Darcy smiled. "Then simply tell him that it was Mr Gardiner who arranged it all."

Mr Gardiner shook his head. "Come now, Mr Darcy, you know that I will not allow that to happen. I, take all the credit for your assistance? We must give credit where it is due."

"No, I am perfectly willing to anonymous. Mr Gardiner, I insist that you take the credit for this. I do not wish to be thanked for this. When you write to Mr Bennet, please do not tell him about my involvement."

Mr Gardiner sighed. "If you insist, there is no point in arguing the matter any more."

"Thank you. The wedding is to be on Monday, and I have given you the location of Mr Wickham's lodgings. I myself have been away for too long, so I shall return to Pemberley. I abandoned my friends and family after returning for only four days."

"So you will not be here for the wedding?"

"I shall return before Monday and attend the ceremony, as well as overseeing the final financial arrangements."

Mr Gardiner nodded. "So if it is all settled, then nothing remains but to write to Mr Bennet and wait for Monday."

"Exactly."


	40. Chapter 40

Part 40: Realizations

Darcy was in no mood to rejoice in his arriving home, for what was the point? He was to leave again in a few days.

He had sent no word of his arrival and so there was no one to greet him. It was not until he was removing his coat in the hall that Georgiana appeared. He gave no reaction to her arrival; he was to tired and drained.

Georgiana approached him hesitantly, uncertainty in her posture; nevertheless, when she spoke her voice was calm and controlled.

"Are you alright?"

He sighed, still determined not to burden her with his troubles.

"Well enough."

"Is your business in London completed?"

"No, I shall be returning in a few days."

Georgiana looked sad, but smiled.

"Then come, we must make the most of your time here with us."

She gently but firmly took his arm and lad him to the drawing room.

Bingley and his family were sitting in the drawing room, quietly talking and did not notice the Darcys' entrance until Darcy sat down.

"Darcy!" said Bingley in pleasant surprise. "You are back. Hopefully, this time for some duration?"

"No, only for a few days. I need to be back in London by Monday."

His guests were disheartened; Miss Bingley most of all.

"I hope this business of yours can be concluded quickly so that you are free to spend more time with your friends," said she.

"As do I," replied he, thinking of one particular acquaintance of his.

"What a lot of business you must have to do during the course of the year, Mr Darcy. How dreadfully dull I would think it; I admire your perseverance."

"Thank you."

"After all, I believe there are few who can manage such a large estate, as well as so many tenants, large fortune and more without any assistance whatsoever."

Darcy made no answer.

"Such duty reflects a character of strength, one who should be proud of their situation in life. Though _someI_ believe it is something that everyone should have. One cannot have too much of pride, after all."

Darcy closed his eyes for a brief minute, reminded of one incident when he had realised that pride was his worst fault.

He was forever indebted to Elizabeth for opening his eyes. If it had not been for her, he would never have known. As painful as the incident at Hunsford had been, it was a test of Darcy's self, and if his meeting with Elizabeth had been any indication, he was well on his way to becoming a better man.

Maybe this trial was another test and though it may be better for him, the price for it was that Elizabeth would never be a part fo his future.

Bingley, seeing his friend was tiring of his sister's conversation, said, "I hope your journey was - "

"It would be such a pity if men such as yourself, Mr Darcy, were to change their ways," interrupted Miss Bingley. "Heaven forbid such an action! think of the impact on society!"

"I may have believed that once in the past, Miss Bingley, but now I believe that perhaps it would be a boon for society if everyone were to humble themselves," said Darcy coldly, not at all attracted by Miss Bingley's opinion on the subject. "And I also believe that society would benefit still more if people concentrated more on improving themselves instead of belittling others."

Miss Bingley was stunned into silence.

"And on the subject of pride," continued Darcy, rising from his seat, "I have learnt through experience that _too much_ pride can be one of the greatest faults of a man - or woman. Miss Elizabeth Bennet was kind enough to point that out to me some time ago and though it was a hard lesson to learn, I now believe that she was perfectly correct."

He knew he was being rude to his friend's sister, but his dealings with Wickham and Lydia had given him a short temper.

Darcy paused before exiting the room.

"If you will excuse me, I have some work to complete."

He left and headed for his study.

It was some time later when all the paper work regarding the future of George Wickham and Lydia Bennet was completed. When all had been done, Darcy leaned his head back, tempted to just fall asleep where he sat.

A quiet knock on the door prevented him from sinking into slumber.

"Enter."

Georgiana walked through the door. Darcy shook himself into a semblence of conciousness and said,

"Good evening. Have our guests retired for the night?"

"Yes." She came and stood just in front of him. "I understand that Miss Bingley has been less than pleasing to you lately, brother. I believe that perhaps she may deign to add some civility in her tone now when she speaks of Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

Darcy smiled tiredly.

"That itself is a blessing."

"But you cannot blame her for her behaviour, brother," continued she. "I think ever since she has been aware of your attraction to Miss Bennet she has been jealous and felt challenged by her. She has tried to gain your affections for so long, and now to have all her efforts rendered worthless by a lady who has not even tried to make you love her must make her feel quite angry."

"It does not excuse her from insulting Miss Bennet in our own house," replied Darcy. "I hope you were not shaken by her mentioning Wickham."

"I was surprised," admitted Georgiana, "But I managed to regain myself not dwell on the matter. Miss Bennet was most kind. Fitzwilliam," asked Georgiana, "does she know about our involvement with him? I got that impression when she had been speaking to Miss Bingley."

"Georgiana, I hope you do not mind, but yes, i have told her. Do not worry, I trust her with my life and she will not reveal what happened that summer."

"I am of your opinion."

Darcy did not answer. Elizabeth had not told anyone of his dealings with Wickham, but if she had then Lydia would not have gone to Brighton and Wickham would not have eloped with her and . . .

 _Stop that. No more 'ifs'; it has happened and you cannot change the past, only affect the future._

Georgiana looked at her brother questioningly.

"What is your business, that had you hurrying to London? Is it something to do with Miss Bennet? The business only arose when you returned from visiting her in Lambton, and she left half an hour later."

"Georgiana, I do not wish to trouble you with my burdens," said Darcy, beginning the old argument again.

"Fitzwilliam, I am no longer a child, though you still see me as one. I would like to know."

"Georgiana . . . "

"You have protected me and cared for me for so long, but you cannot do that forever; there are others you must do that for. I am growing up; I have a right to know."

Darcy looked at his sister. Though little more than sixteen, her figure was well-formed, her air dignified and her appearance womanly and graceful. She was very similar to their mother, both in form and spirit.

 _She is growing-up - and soon she will marry and leave me here. All alone . . ._

"If you put it that way, I shall tell you."

Georgiana sat in a nearby chair while Darcy related to her the whole of his activities since he had seen Elizabeth in Lambton. He told her of how he finally bribed Mrs Younge, Georgiana's former companion, how he found the fugitives and arranged Lydia's marriage to Wickham.

"The wedding is on Monday, and I must attend," said he, carefully gauging his sister's reaction.

Georgiana was sitting still, her eyes wide. She said nothing for some minutes, while Darcy began to dread that he had done the wrong thing.

"Why are you doing all of this for him?" she asked finally.

Darcy breathed a sigh of relief.

"I am certainly not doing this for him, dearest," he replied. "It is more for Lydia and her family."

" _All_ of the Bennet family?" said Georgiana with one raised eyebrow.

"Yes, _all_ of them," said he smiling.

"I believe you," she said in a tone that implied the opposite."

Darcy shook his head.

"You are doing all of this for no other reason than your love for Miss Elizabeth."

He smiled at her.

"Yes, my clever little sister, you are quite correct. But it is late, and I think we should both sleep."

When he went to bed, Darcy found that he was calmer and happier than he would have been had he stayed in London. He could _almost_ forget the past week, _almost_ forget Wickham, Lydia, Wickham's fear of him, Lydia's defiance, Elizabeth . . .

 _There is no more need for tears, my dearest Elizabeth,_ he said silently. _I have secured the security and reputation of your family and there will be no more need for tears._

No tears, except for his, for his own happiness that now could never be.

 _Georgiana will find someone, Bingley has Jane,_ (here he swore to bring his friend happiness by reuniting him with Jane Bennet) _And I have no one._

 _On Monday I am attending a wedding - the unification of a couple that do not truly care for each other, but a wedding all the same._

Yet another reminder that while men and women around him were finding people whom they could share their lives with, he had no one.

 _Elizabeth will also find someone to care for her, protect her, love her._

 _I just wish that it was me._


	41. Chapter 41

Part 41: Mr. and Mrs. Wickham

"I apologise, Bingley, if I insulted you or Miss Bingley in any way last night," said Darcy to his friend the next morning. For the moment, they were alone as the ladies and Mr. Hurst had not yet joined them for breakfast.

"I thank you, Darcy, but really I must admit that I find Caroline's hypocrisy and manners disturbing at times. I know that I should not slight my own sister, but . . ." He trailed off, waving his hand around trying to find an appropriate thing to say. "Anyway, I feel that I must speak with her about it - and Louisa as well, but I confess I do not know how to go about confronting them."

"Did you not do that, the evening Miss Bennet dined at Pemberley?"

"I did, but I do not believe I did a very good job of it."

"Are you sure?"

"When I was speaking to them, I think Louisa and Caroline were not really listening to me," sighed Bingley. "How can I make them understand that I do not approve of their behaviour?"

Darcy was about to offer a suggestion, but caught himself.

 _You interfere too much in your friend's life. Bingley must learn to make his own decisions._

Bingley looked to him for inspiration.

"Could you advise me on this, Darcy?"

"Perhaps you should ask yourself, as to what course of action to take," replied he carefully.

Bingley looked taken aback.

"Bingley, _you_ ought to be the one making the decision. You are their brother; they should know to listen to you. I am not going to offer any suggestions, save that when you do speak to them, do not let them offer any excuses. As for the rest, use your initiative."

Bingley was stricken; Darcy could see that and was tempted to help him. But Darcy had ordered Bingley's life for him enough already and that had to stop. Though some of Darcy's decisions for Bingley had been good, he had been gravely mistaken about Bingley's choice of wife. He was now certain that Jane Bennet was perhaps a perfect match for his easy-tempered friend.

Darcy had to remedy his mistake, but feared Bingley's reaction when he found out that his most trusted friend and relations had lied to him.

"Bingley, there is something I must tell you . . ."

Just then, Miss Bingley entered the room.

"Good morning."

The gentlemen returned her greeting, then Bingley turned to Darcy.

"Yes?"

Darcy decided to leave it for now.

"I cannot remember."

Darcy arrived in London the evening before the wedding. When he arrived at his townhouse, he found a letter from Mr. Gardiner waiting for him. It was a short missive; written to inform Darcy of all the particulars of the next day.

'The wedding is to begin at eleven o'clock, at St. Clements, the church of the parish where Mr. Wickham and Lydia are lodging. If you would be so kind as to await our arrival with Mr. Wickham inside, Mrs. Gardiner and I shall bring Lydia for the ceremony.

Mr. Wickham received his commission yesterday and he is to join the regiment at the end of a fortnight. Before he and Lydia travel to the North, they are to visit Mr. Bennet at Longbourn. I have written to my brother and hopefully he will satisfy Wickham's debts in Meryton.

My wife and I look forward to seeing you again on Monday.

Yours, etc.'

Darcy put down the letter and sighed. Tomorrow would see the end of the whole blasted business.

Though it was more than half an hour before anyone was to arrive, Darcy found himself sitting inside St. Clements contemplating just what was the ultimate result of his involvement in the Lydia-Wickham affair.

Life would go on as normal for him, save some small yet significant changes. Georgiana was growing up, and Bingley was on the path to becoming his own man. Darcy's relations with the two would be different to what they had been in the past.

And Elizabeth? He did not know. What would she think of him if she did know about his involvement? Would she realise he had done it for her? Or would she believe he had done it for some other reason?

Just _how_ had this affair affected their rather stormy and unpredictable relationship?

Whenever he thought he understood, something happened to change it all.

 _First I thought that she would accept me, then I found out that I was the last man in the world whom she could ever marry. When I feel that she must detest me, I meet her at Pemberley and hope rises. Then when I feel that relations are improving, this happens. Now how do things stand?_

Either way, it did not matter. He would never see her again - he had come to terms with that.

Well, nearly.

He sighed.

"Something wrong, Darcy?" said a questioning voice.

He looked up as Wickham, smartly dressed in a blue coat sat down beside him. There was an expression of genuine commiseration in his face, but Darcy knew Wickham too well.

"Nothing of importance."

There was silence for a few minutes.

"You don't trust me, do you." A statement, not a question.

"Of course not. Can you blame me?"

"No, I suppose not. But I had hoped that it was all in the past, and we could bury our differences. We had been good friends in years long gone."

"Years too long gone to have any influence on the present or the future, Wickham."

Wickham gave a smile.

"Even so, those years have caused you to abandon your friends and come to London in search of me. Or is it because of me? I am still trying to figure out just _why_ you have taken so much trouble to assist a man you hate and a girl whom you certainly cannot respect. I am at quite a loss to explain it. Am I wishing in vain for you to enlighten me?"

"Yes."

"But I can still speculate. If not for me, then it must be for Lydia. But not Lydia _herself_. Someone connected with her, perhaps? Someone who would be affected by Lydia's damaged reputation? Someone whom you do not wish to be hurt?"

Wickham was sharp, Darcy knew that, and he was getting too close to the truth.

"Your speculations are of no use, for I will not say a word, even if you should be correct."

"Even so, I must thank you for doing so. I am most exceedingly obliged," said Wickham sarcastically.

The priest entered, cutting off any reply and bent his head to speak to Wickham. Darcy did not listen to their conversation but silently breathed a sigh of relief that he had manged to dodge all of Wickham's questions.

At the back of the church, the doors opened. The priest stepped back to his position while Wickham stood. A few moments later, Darcy did the same. When Lydia, preceeding her aunt and uncle, stood close to them, Wickham stepped away from the pew to stand beside his bride.

Darcy looked at Lydia. She was dressed in a simple white muslin gown that became her very well. She held a small bouquet of flowers, and her eyes were shining, her face radiant. Even so, for once she looked quite serious as she stood beside her 'dear Wickham'.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were quite grim as they stood off to one side. Darcy caught Mr. Gardiner's eye and nodded as the priest began.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony . . . "

Darcy had attended quite a few weddings in his time, but never at any of them had he felt so certain that the union he was missing was doomed to failure.

 _These two are only brought together because of their passions and my interference,_ thought he soberly. _Such a union cannot last for long. And when they do tire of each other's company, what then? Have I doomed two people to misery?_

"George, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife . . . "

With a shock, Darcy suddenly realised that Wickham was now irrevocably part of the family that, apart from his own, would cause him the most heartache.

 _Wickham shall be Elizabeth's brother-in-law; and what if Elizabeth did return my affections? Can I ignore that Wickham is her brother, and so, mine if we were to marry?_

As of yet, he did now know if his love was storng enough to forget such a connection.

Wickham glanced at him. He turned slightly to watch, as the priest led Wickham and Lydia through their vows. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner was also watching them.

The Gardiners - now there was an example of a good marriage. Mr. Gardiner was a man of good sense, principle and humour while his wife intelligent and kind. They obviously cared deeply about each other and respected their partner in life.

Darcy hoped that he too could have the kind of companionship and love the Gardiners shared. Somehow, he knew without a shred of doubt, that if he and Elizabeth were to come to an understanding, then their marriage would be one people would envy.

"I pronounce that they be man and wife together, In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."

The wedding had concluded. Mr. and Mrs. Wickham laughed, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner smiled. Darcy stood expressionless.

 _And this marriage of her youngest sister, is this the last service I shall do for Elizabeth? I shall never see her again, never have a second chance to tell her just how much I love her. Oh, why couldn't it have been different? How I wish that it was myself and Elizabeth standing there in front of the altar!_

 _And if she comes to love another, perhaps it would be well that I will never know. But no, I could not bear it, not knowing and yet, would having knowledge of it be a worse punishment for me than never knowing?_

 _How confused my thoughts are. But one thing is for certain - I still love her, with all my heart, and this act is my final proof of it - but I do not want her to know. She will fell gratitude - but I do not want her gratitude, only her love, and that I will not force, it has to come of her own free will._

Mr. and Mrs. Wickham were leaving to the waiting carriage outside, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner following. Darcy fell into place behind them.

Outisde, the sun was shining brightly which helped relieve the cold of the church. Mr. Gardiner was giving some papers to Wickham and Lydia to sign, regarding the debts and commission. Wickham dutifully signed these, while Lydia held onto his arm, beaming up at her husband.

Darcy approached them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Wickham, allow me to give you congratulations and my best wishes for your future. Mr. Wickham you have a lovely bride, and Mrs. Wickham, I wish you all the in the world."

He did not offer his hand to Wickham, nor did it seem Wickham expected him to.

Mr. Wickham smiled and responded, "On behalf of Mrs. Wickham and myself, I thank you, sir for attending and for your sincere congratulations."

Unable to contain her excitement any longer, Lydia exclaimed, "Oh, Mr. Darcy, I am so happy! I was so afraid that something might happen to prevent it all, and now here I am with my lovely husband! I can't wait until we get to Longbourn and see all my sisters! I shall tell them all about the wedding, what my dress was like, my ring, what Wickham wore, who was the groomsman, and - "

 _No!_

"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Wickham, but I have a something to ask of you - and your husband." Wickham raised his eyebrows but Darcy continued, "I would be much obliged if you will promise me not tell anyone of my involvement in this."

"And why not?" asked Lydia.

"Please, do not reveal any of this," repeated Darcy.

After some moments, Wickham agreed. Lydia did so as well, though more reluctantly.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner now came up to give their congratulations. Darcy stood off to one side watching. Sometimes he caught Wickham's eye. Wickham immediately looked away.

After some minutes, the newly-weds climbed into the carriage, and drove off into the the London streets, waving as they disappeared from sight.

Darcy and the Gardiners stood there for a while in silence, thinking over what they had just witnessed.

Mr. Gardiner then turned to him and said, "After this, I am thinking that perhaps some quieter, more leisurely entertainment is called for. Mr. Darcy, will you do us the honour of having dinner with us tomorrow?"

Darcy smiled. "I would be honoured, sir."


	42. Chapter 42

Part 42: Family

If Mr and Mrs Gardiner had not invited him to dine at their house in Cheapside, Darcy would have probably left immediately after the wedding. He had not been to Pemberley for almost a year, and when he had returned, he had left after four days. Spending more time with the Gardiners was not unappealing though, and he delayed his departure until Wednesday.

For the first time, Darcy went to Cheapside, and for the first time in his life, he entered one of the houses. Gracechurch Street, though the houses were not so large, was orderly and neat. The inhabitants respected everyone's privacy, occasionally greeting their neighbours when they saw one another.

A man of Darcy's standing had not often ventured into their lives, but though he was given some curious glances, he was undisturbed. Finding the Gardiner's house, he knocked on the door. The servant opened it and announced his arrival.

Mr and Mrs Gardiner had been sitting in the drawing room with their children, who shyly looked at the floor. Mrs Gardiner introduced each of them, two girls and two boys to Darcy, gently prompting them to greet him.

"Children, this is our friend, Mr Darcy. Mr Darcy, this is Alice, Kate, William and Robert," said Mrs Gardiner, going down the line. As each of their names was called, each child curtsied or bowed.

 _These children, the eldest cannot be more than eight, already have better manners than some of their cousins,_ thought he. There was ample evidence of the Gardiner's good parenting. Darcy wondered just how Jane and Elizabeth had turned out so well in comparison to their younger sisters. Perhaps Mr and Mrs Gardiner had a hand in their upbringing?

Bending slightly so that his tall frame was not so imposing, he returned the favour. When he looked up, he observed Mr and Mrs Gardiner sharing a smile.

"Dinner shall be ready soon," said Mr Gardiner. "In the meantime, children, don't make too much noise while you are playing."

Darcy watched as the children quietly returned to the activities his arrival had interrupted. Alice and Kate brought their dolls to little Robert and enacted stories they had made up while William piled blocks on top of each other with serious concentration.

"They are wonderful children," said he to Mrs Gardiner.

"Children are the hope of our world's future," added Mr Gardiner with pride as he lovingly watched Kate give her doll to Robert.

"But they need good parents to guide them in the first years of their lives," said Mrs Gardiner.

"I almost envy your children, Mrs Gardiner, "said Darcy honestly, "My mother died in Georgiana's birth and my father joined her in Heaven five years ago. At least I have some memory of my mother, vague though it may be. Georgiana unfortunately does not share that pleasure. I have had to take over my parent's position in bringing her up."

"And a wonderful job you have done of it, sir," responded Mr Gardiner. "For one who has had few examples to learn from, you have done very well as a parent."

Mrs Gardiner smiled at the young man. "Yes, it would seem you have been more of a father to Miss Darcy than an elder brother. If you had children of your own, you would make an excellent father."

"I would need a wife first," replied Darcy, laughing.

Mrs Gardiner smiled at his remark. "My joy at Alice's birth was increased fourfold, and now my happiness in marriage is complete."

"If you would count Jane and Elizabeth, one could almost say we have had six children to care for," said Mr Gardiner. "They visited us frequently when they were younger, but the younger girls have preferred to remain at home with my sister."

"It would seem that your parenting is quite different from your relatives," said Darcy delicately.

Mr Gardiner sighed. "I sometimes wish that we could have had more of a hand in bringing up Mary, Kitty and Lydia, but it is too late for anything to be remedied."

"I see. I had often wondered at the difference between the two eldest and the younger Bennet sisters."

"It is wonderful to see that Jane and Lizzy, before such sweet girls, have grown up into such beautiful women. Soon, they will marry; I would be saddened indeed if their husbands were not worthy of them," said Mr Gardiner. His wife agreed, nodding her head thoughtfully.

"Jane needs someone who will care for her selflessly, and Elizabeth's husband would have to a man who could match her spirit and independence. I know that they must also think of fortune, but I hope that they will put love and happiness before anything."

 _Elizabeth will only marry for love, and she does not love me._

"It will be difficult, to find two such men that were perfect for them," said Darcy.

"Come now, sir, do you not believe that there is a match for everyone one in this world?" chided Mrs Gardiner. "God made Eve for Adam; does it not follow that every one of His children should also have someone created for them?"

"I do not know; so far, I have seen no evidence of it."

He had seen very few marriages that seemed made in Heaven. True there were some; his own parents, some of his acquaintances, Lord and Lady Fitzwilliam . . . but when compared to the number of bad marriages he had seen, the ratio was very small.

"I certainly believe it is true, for I have been so fortunate as to meet my wife," smiled Mr Gardiner.

"I do not know if I have met the woman who is for me," replied Darcy softly.

"But of course you do not _know_ when you first meet them - only future events will tell, and even so, you must still make your own choices and take the risk to find out if the one you believe is your partner-in-life, really is so."

A sudden tumble of blocks was heard crashing to the floor. William cried at the sight of his hard work lying scattered over the area and Mrs Gardiner immediately rose and went to her son's side, while Alice tried to pick up the blocks, her father helping. Mrs Gardiner tried to sooth her son, who refused to be calmed.

"Come now, William, we shall build a better tower this time, one that will not fall over so easily," coaxed Mr Gardiner, taking the blocks from Alice. He placed blocks on top of each other, in a more stable design while William's sobs lessened as he watched his father. When it was finished, William laughed.

Darcy watched this little family scene from where he sat. Mr and Mrs Gardiner were such wonderful parents, and not only did they care for their own offspring, they were willing to help and look after any others who wished for their assistance. He instinctively felt that the Gardiners would treat him almost as one of their own.

For once, he could rely on someone, rather than having everyone rely on him.

The servant entered and announced that dinner was ready. Mr Gardiner took the hands of his two daughters and led them into the dining room, William and Robert following behind. Mrs Gardiner smiled at Darcy and he escorted her inside.

The meal was certainly not as elegant as the ones he had with Georgiana and the Bingleys, not with four young children wanting attention, but it was by far more comfortable and friendly. The dinner itself was simple yet tasted delicious. Darcy enjoyed himself thoroughly.

Afterwards, Mrs Gardiner put the children were put to bed, leaving the two men to converse among themselves in Mr Gardiner's study.

Darcy glanced at the bookshelves, noting that many of the best volumes that sat there were ones he had himself. Mr Gardiner watched him, saying, "I doubt you will find one there that you have not read. Your library at Pemberley is more complete than my modest study."

"Yes, but my family has had the advantage of time to build up such a large collection." He rose from his seat and took down two of the books. "And yet, even with such an advantage, I do not have these which I have searched for a long time unsuccessfully."

"Which ones are they?" asked Mr Gardiner. When he saw which ones Darcy spoke of, he said,

"Ah, these I remember - Jane and Lizzy were staying with us some time ago, and my wife and I took them to the bookstore. Lizzy discovered those, and found them so interesting I bought them for her. She finished them within a day and forgot to bring them home with her. You are at liberty to borrow them, if you wish."

Darcy thanked him gratefully. Seeing a portrait of a family that included a woman who seemed a younger Mrs Bennet, Darcy wondered out aloud if Lydia would ever come to recognise her folly in eloping with Mr. Wickham.

"In time, she will come to realise her mistake," replied Mr Gardiner, sighing. "But by then, it will be to late; they are bound to each other until death parts them. But perhaps, it is possible that Mr Wickham will take advantage of this new beginning and life his life anew?" asked Mr Gardiner hopefully.

"I wish I could say yes, but I know him too well to believe that he will mend his ways."

"Do you think that Mr and Mrs Wickham will abide by their promises not to tell anyone of your involvement?" asked Mr Gardiner.

"Mr Wickham will not; he would not want the Bennet family to know any more of his conduct than they do already, nor would he want it known that I have assisted him so much, not after what he has told everyone about me."

"Yes, I had heard some of those lies that he spread around the neighborhood," said Mr. Gardiner shaking his head. "They were quite malicious and I am afraid to say that he told them with such skill that many believed them."

"Does the whole of Meryton believe me to have wronged Mr. Wickham?" said Darcy.

"I am sorry to say that they did, though some people's opinions did change. Elizabeth, one of the ones who most vehemently stood by Mr Wickham, now knows that she was mistaken." He looked at Darcy. "My niece told us of the truth of Mr Wickham's character during our return to Longbourn, and that she had acquired her information from her visit to Kent last spring. I may hazard a guess as to the source of her information, and I thank him for opening her eyes."

"But had I told her earlier, when I first learned that Wickham was in town, the entire elopement could have been prevented," replied Darcy, still harboring guilt about his reluctance to reveal Wickham's character.

"Mr Darcy, how can you blame yourself? I do not, nor does my wife, and, truth be told, neither does Lizzy. She first blamed _herself_ if you can believe it, for withholding her knowledge for so long, yet she also did not foresee Lydia's action even though she has known Lydia since birth. If she could not have foreseen it, neither could you. She no longer blames herself, and so neither can she blame you."

 _Elizabeth does_ not _blame me?_ thought Darcy, startled. _Surely I deserve it, yet she does not? Can this be true?_

He looked at Mr Gardiner. He had come to learn that he could be trusted; Mr Gardiner would not have told him this just for his peace of mind. So it must be true.

"I . . .I thank you, sir," said Darcy sincerely.

They talked of other subjects, and as the hours passed, Darcy's respect for Mr Gardiner increased. He was a well-educated man, who shared his love of reading. He found himself telling Mr Gardiner more and more about his life, asking for advice on this and that. Mr Gardiner would listen carefully and give him enough information to guide Darcy to a solution.

When the night had advanced quite late, Darcy left the Gardiners.

"I thank you for your hospitality, sir," said Darcy, shaking Mr Gardiner's hand. He turned to Mrs Gardiner, who had come to see him off and took his leave of her. She acknowledged him, and, after many invitations to meet again sometime if Darcy should be in London, he departed from the homely house in Cheapside with a lightened heart.

The next day, he left London and returned to Derbyshire, Wickham now out of his life forever.


	43. Chapter 43

Part 43: Confrontation

It was the end of summer, and autumn would soon be approaching. Darcy took his time on the road, there was no hurry and the weather was fine. He sent word of his coming, and hopefully the letter to Georgiana would reach Pemberley a day or so before him.

Unlike his earlier arrival, Georgiana and the Bingleys were waiting outside to greet him. Georgiana glided down the steps of the house and embraced her brother, taking no notice of the people around her.

"I hope you took good care of our guests in my absence?" asked Darcy.

"I believe I did. Charles is so much more happier than last winter and has been very good company while you were away." She took his hand and led him to join the others.

"Darcy, I hope you have returned for good this time," greeted Bingley. "You have been flying all over the country lately, is it time for you to settle down?"

"Yes, I have no more plans for the next few months," responded he. "Peace and quiet are all I desire."

Bingley seemed more jovial, like the man he had been before leaving Jane. Darcy hoped this was a good sign of his friend's growing independence.

Miss Bingley and her sister were standing off to one side. Miss Bingley had a worried expression on her face, but she greeted him cordially enough.

"How good it is that you have returned to us," she simpered. "We have been quite desolate without our gracious host."

"Come now, brother, we must not keep you standing outside. Shall we go in?" asked Georgiana.

They all took her advice and followed her into the house.

After diner, Darcy and Bingley retired to the study to talk. Darcy was interested to see what new developments his friend had undergone. Already he seemed more confident of himself.

After speaking of more trivial things, Bingley suddenly made an offer.

"I have been thinking, Darcy, of returning to Netherfield." Before Darcy could say anything to this, he hurried on. "The shooting season is coming and the game around Netherfield is very abundant. Would you like to join me? I have asked my sisters, but they are still thinking if they will come."

Darcy froze at his friend's invitation. _Should I go? Run the risk of meeting Elizabeth again? After what Mr and Mrs Gardiner told me, is it right for me to go?_

"Come Darcy, it would be better if I had company."

There was something in his friend's voice that made Darcy look up. He looked at Bingley, and sensed that though hunting was part of his desire to return to Netherfield, it certainly was not the main reason.

He was grateful to know that Bingley had made this decision himself. Darcy had been prepared to convince Bingley to go to Netherfield, but if he had already chosen to do so, it made things even better.

But should he go with him?

Though Bingley did not say it out loud, it was obvious he did really want his friend's company.

With a sudden decision, Darcy voiced his acceptance.

"Good, good, excellent! We shall be quite a merry party. I wonder how all our friends in Hertfodshire are? What changes have happened?" He continued in this manner for some time.

Darcy told himself he was going to Netherfield to see if Jane Bennet still returned his friend's love. If she did, he would confess his deception to Bingley, and do his utmost to see his friend married to her.

That's what he told himself anyway. He knew there was another reason - but as of yet, he did not acknowledge it.

Late that same evening, Darcy had retired to the library to begin reading the book he had borrowed from Mr Gardiner. He had setled down into a large chair by the fire, the first moment of complete peace and relaxation in a long time.

Unfortunately, his solitude was broken by the arrival of Miss Bingley.

"Mr Darcy, may I have a word with you?" asked the lady.

He sighed and put down his book. "Certainly."

She shut the door behind her. Coming closer to him, she began,

"Mr Darcy, you must speak to my brother at once!"

"On what subject, pray?"

"The day you left for London, he expressed his intention of returning to Netherfield!" She paused, waiting to see any reaction from him. When he gave none, she continued.

"He says it is for sport, and true, the hunting season is approaching; but we know that he will be inevitably be drawn to Jane Bennet. When I tried to inform him of the folly of such a venture, he told me in no uncertain terms, that he did not care for my opinion. Mr Darcy, you must speak to him!"

"It is Bingley's decision to make; I cannot presume to make him change his mind if he is determined upon it."

"But when he meets Jane again, his interest for her might, nay, _will_ be rekindled and a marriage will soon follow. All our efforts since last November will be wasted."

"If he does not listen to his sister, then what makes you think that he will listen to me?"

"You are his oldest friend, and he takes your advice. Think of how many difficult decisions you have made for him in the past!"

"Miss Bingley, I should no longer presume to run Bingley's life for him. If he wishes for my advice, I shall give it, but no longer will I tell him what to do, least of all advise him in matters of his own heart. If he loves Miss Bennet, and she returns his affections and accepts a proposal, then I shall be most happy for him."

Aghast at what she was hearing, Miss Bingley exclaimed, "Do you not remember our objections to such a marriage? Jane may be a sweet girl, but her family, connections!"

Darcy sighed. "Miss Bingley, what we did to separate them, was wrong. I was mistaken in my belief of Miss Bennet's indifference, for I now know she returned his affections. Whether her feelings for him have altered since I last saw her, I do not know, but Bingley is entitled to find out. In fact," he continued, smiling, "I myself have never seen such plentiful sport as I did in Hertfodshire. Your brother invited me to join him, and I shall accompany him."

At this, Miss Bingley turned a shade paler.

"But, sir, surely you do not wish to return to Hertfodshire and its inhabitants. If I remember correctly, you did not enjoy our last stay there. In fact, you quite disliked some of the inhabitants, and may I be so bold as to say that some in particular did not approve of you, though I cannot see why. I share your opinion of them; they are a group of country savages and some of them were quite abominably rude to us. If you dislike the populace so much, then may I recommend that you do not return there."

Though she did not mention Elizabeth out loud, Darcy knew that she was uppermost in Miss Bingley's mind. His smile disappeared.

"Miss Bingley," he said coldly, "Is there any particular reason that you do not wish for me to go with your brother to Netherfield?"

The lady did not answer. He continued in a serious tone.

"Is it out of concern for me, that I might not enjoy my stay there, or are you afraid that I will again be thrown into the path of Miss Elizabeth Bennet?" He sighed. "Miss Bingley, after all these years, have you not come to the terms that you will never be anything more to me except for the sister of my closest friend? I never intended for you to believe our relationship any more intimate than that, and if I have led you to a misunderstanding, I apologise. I am now telling you quite bluntly, and I hope you will forgive my honesty, that you should give up your ambition of winning my affections."

Miss Bingley stood very still, frozen to the spot where she stood. Her eyes were fearful, as if only now she acknowledged something that she had known for many months.

"There is someone in the world for all of us," said Darcy gently. "But fate will only bring us so far. It is up to each individual to recognise what path their life has begun after the initial meeting - then we must decide if the risks and chances we must take along the road to final felicity in marriage are worth the hardships along the way."

"And you truly believe Elizabeth Bennet is the other half of your soul?" whispered Miss Bingley, the last traces of denial leaving her.

Darcy sighed. "I am not sure. But I am willing to take that chance."

Miss Bingley did not speak. The expression one her face was one of someone who had had their illusions and dreams shattered. Darcy could sympathize - God knew that he had felt the same pain once, many months ago.

"Your mind believed that we could be happy together," said he, walking towards the door. "Have you asked your heart what you truly want?"

He did not look back to see her reaction. He exited the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

 **Due to the extended number of updates in the past week, I will not be updating until this story reaches 130 reviews. With a busy social life and upcoming college, my schedule is packed; many of you can probably relate. The surprisingly low number of comments after all the updating done was also a bit disheartening.**

 **To those who did and who have reviewed: thank you all so much for your support and love. It means the world to me. You guys have no idea how much your reviews brighten my day.**


	44. Chapter 44

Part 44: House of Memories

After this confrontation, Darcy was careful that he and Miss Bingley were never alone in each other's company. He avoided her as much as possible, without his behaviour being deemed impolite. Thankfully, Miss Bingley did the same.

Bingley was pleased at the prospect of returning to Netherfield, even more so when Darcy confirmed that he was accompanying him. Unfortunately, Bingley's sisters declined the offer to come also, as did his brother-in-law. They would instead go to Scarborough for three weeks. Georgiana also could not come; she would remain at Pemberley with Mrs. Annesley.

When Georgiana was informed of her brother's going to Hertfodshire, as soon as they were alone she said to him,

"Will you call on Miss Elizabeth Bennet?"

To which Darcy replied,

"I don't know."

Georgiana, although not at all satisfied with such an answer, did not press her brother any further.

Bingley and Darcy were to leave in about two weeks, arriving at Netherfield on Wednesday.

Darcy was more than slightly apprehensive about returning to Hertfodshire and more especially, to the company of a certain inhabitant of the area. He was sure that Bingley felt the same. It was inevitable that they would, sooner or later, come into the Bennet's company. What would happen at such a meeting was impossible to foresee.

A letter was sent to the housekeeper a few days before they left Pemberley, ordering that the house be prepared for the returning master and his friend.

Darcy, as he and his friend rode slowly along the road in Hertfodshire, watched as the surrounding countryside grew more and more familiar and when at length they turned to head towards Netherfield, he began to ask himself just why he had come.

Neither of them spoke; it was a comfortable silence and they were unwilling to break it. Each was lost in their own thoughts, and very similar thoughts they were too.

Darcy was uncomfortable. What was his business in Hertfodshire? He had no reason at all to return. But he knew that he must see if Bingley could win Jane Bennet for his wife - and this time, Darcy would help him instead of plotting to sabotage their relationship.

He had not yet apologised to Bingley for his deception last winter, of hiding the knowledge of Jane's presence in London from his friend. He had to do it soon. Better for Darcy to tell him personally, before Bingley found out about his friend's deception in a less desirable way. Though the day was fine, he shivered when he thought as to how to confess his actions to Bingley.

Out of the corner of his eye, there was a flash of ochre. Immediately his thoughts turned to Elizabeth.

How changed he was since he had last come here. He was no longer the empty, proud young man that had thought Elizabeth just 'tolerable', but a man he hoped was amiable and kind, a gentleman who now took an interest in the world around him.

Not only that, a gentleman deeply in love.

 _Would it be better if I had never accepted Bingley's invitation to stay at Netherfield?_ he wondered. _Never set foot in Hertfodshire, the assembly rooms of Meryton? I would never have had to bear such pain as I did during those months in London._

 _But then I never would have met Elizabeth, never known the truth of myself . . . never known what it was to feel love._

Having experienced love, unrequited though it may be, he was now more human rather than the cold marble statue he had sometimes been whenever he wore his mask of indifference and rejection that had nearly been second nature to him. Love had prevented him from becoming so accustomed to the mask that one day he never would have removed it.

 _Life had been so meaningless before I knew I was in love, and surely it is better to know what I can never have than to go through life knowing I lacked something but never knowing what it was._

But even though he had come to terms with never having Elizabeth's love, he still could not help but hope.

By this time, they had arrived at the gates of Netherfield.

"Here we are at last," sighed Bingley tiredly.

Darcy nodded. Netherfield; where the beginning of his change had begun.

The two men dismounted and gave the reins to the servants that had magically appeared. Their belongings had already arrived, and they entered the house to rest for the trials that awaited them.

When Darcy went to bed that night, he had decided that either Netherfield was haunted, or he was going mad. Being of a practical nature, the idea of spirits living in the house was immediately dismissed, and because he _thought_ he was going crazy, it ruled out the fact of him _being_ out of his mind. Having rejected these hypotheses, the only theory that was left was that Elizabeth had become so much a part of his life that even when she was not present, she still affected him

In the garden, he remembered when he had come upon her walking to inquire after Jane, the hem of her dress coated in mud and her face radiant. The ballroom was even worse, if he closed his eyes he could almost hear the music to which he and Elizabeth had danced to together.

When he stood, alone, in the dining room, he recollected how Jane and Elizabeth had been embarrassed at their family's behaviour. Mary's eagerness to be noticed and applauded, and her subsequent humiliation by her own father. Mrs Bennet's loud boasting of Jane and Bingley's supposed marriage, turning a blind eye to the antics of Lydia and Catherine. Darcy shook his head at himself when he thought of his disgust when he witnessed it. Now, he no longer cared. It no longer mattered.

 _However her family may conduct themselves, whatever her connections and fortune may be, it is of no importance. Elizabeth is Elizabeth, regardless of everything else._

The house was full of memories. He smiled sadly at them, remembering the past for the future..


	45. Chapter 45

Part 45: Doubt

The two friends arose early, eager to begin the day's activities, but before they had even finished their breakfast, Sir William Lucas arrived to give his greetings.

"Ah, Mr. Bingley, welcome back to Hertfodshire. I hope you have been well?" asked he.

Bingley looked pleased to see Sir William, but also disappointed, as if he had been expecting someone else.

"Very well, sir, and yourself?"

The exchange of pleasantries continued for a few moments. Darcy stood off to one side, unsure of what to do. He knew that everyone in Meryton still viewed him as proud and disagreeable; and now he had to do his best to change all that.

"Sir William, may I inquire after your daughter, Mrs. Collins?" he asked finally, thinking it a safe topic of conversation.

The man looked astonished at being addressed by him. He puffed a little, then said, "She is very well. I believe you saw her when you were visiting your aunt, the illustrious Lady Catherine de Bourgh in Easter. I am sorry that I missed your visit, but may I say sir, that your aunt is all affability and generosity. I believe that Charlotte has done very well. Lady Catherine has treated her and Mr. Collins exceedingly well."

Darcy hid a grimace. His aunt enjoyed domineering over others and interfering in business that had nothing to do with her. He pitied Charlotte, yet was grateful that it was she who bore the name Mrs. Collins instead of Elizabeth.

"Mrs. Collins is a very good woman. She seems very happy with her situation," he said instead.

Darcy watched Sir William's face. The man looked quite astonished, and was nearly openly staring at Darcy as if he had never seen him before. Darcy had never initiated a conversation between them before of his own will, and Sir William was unsure of what to make of him. Darcy shook his head slightly at what everyone must have thought of him last autumn.

"Ah, yes. Thank you sir," said Sir William. He turned back to Bingley. "I wonder, Mr. Bingley, if you and Mr. Darcy would do myself and Lady Lucas the honour of dining at Lucas Lodge this evening?"

Bingley turned to his friend. "I certainly would enjoy it. What say you, Darcy?"

Darcy thought for a moment. Preferably he would remain at home, but he had to do his best to show everyone that he was different from last year. What better way than to dine at Lucas Lodge the home of the most eminent family in the neighborhood?

"I would be happy to join you."

Sir William looked flustered. "Well, then, sirs, I look forward to your company this evening. Perhaps you would tell us of your winter in London. I dearly would have liked to stay there myself and take my family St. James court. Did you go there yourself?"

Bingley politely answered in the negative. Darcy, with the greatest patience, bore up with the man's overbearing manners.

The visit did not last much longer. With many prolonged farewells by Sir William and hopes for the evening, Darcy and Bingley were finally able to go about the day's left the house, hoping for a few hours, to forget the thoughts that had kept them both awake. But none of their them seemed to be on sport, and though the expedition was not an entire failure, the amount of game killed was less than usual.

Darcy tried to think of the best way to confess to Bingley. It would be painful for both of them. What Bingley would do when he knew of his oldest friend's deceit, Darcy could not help but wonder - and fear.

Sir William Lucas, Lady Lucas, Maria Lucas and the younger children greeted their guests cordially, but it was painfully obvious they were much more at ease with Bingley than Darcy. Only Sir William spoke to him; after the initial pleasantries, Lady Lucas hardly said a word to him, the younger children had much more interest in talking to each other and Maria was too frightened of him.

He began to realise just how his behaviour had alienated others - not just Elizabeth. Other people, who may not mean much to him, but who were still people.

After the meal, he decided to talk to Maria.

"I hope you enjoyed visiting your sister in April?" he asked her. Bingley was talking to Sir William and Lady Luas on the other side of the room; the younger children had left to prepare for bed.

Maria jumped a little. She looked towards her parents as if searching for help, then replied, "Yes I did. Papa says she has done very well, and I agree. But la, I was quite frightened of Lady Catherine. She is very kind to Charlotte, but very, very grand. Did you know," she continued, her face lighting up. "Charlotte writes that I am to become an aunt in a few months!" It seemed that when given the chance to speak, her apprehension was disappearing.

The girl's delight was evident. To this information, Darcy made no reply. He did not dwell on it but merely nodded.

Maria continued. "I enjoyed meeting Colonel Fitzwilliam. He was very pleasant gentleman. Was he well when you last saw him?"

Darcy answered in the affirmative. His cousin had been of great support to him after their visit in Kent. He had not seen him since Colonel Fitzwilliam left for the North, but knowing his cousin's temperament, he was sure he was well.

"Charlotte and I teased Elizabeth about him," said she smiling. "He was very attentive to her. I had hoped that Elizabeth would receive a marriage proposal while we were at Hunsford, but it all came to nothing. Still, I do hope the Colonel will see her again. Lizzy liked him very much. She was quite out of sorts when you both left."

Darcy froze. Maria recalled to him all-to-vividly how his cousin and Elizabeth enjoyed each other's company. He knew that Richard Fitzwilliam admired Elizabeth very much, and she, him.

Perhaps Elizabeth felt _more_ than he thought for his cousin?

He told himself no. He had observed her behaviour while he visited Hunsford in April, and had come to the conclusion that Elizabeth did not love his cousin.

But what if he had been mistaken? Maria knew Elizabeth better than he did, and at the time, Darcy had been blinded by his pride. What if he had persuaded himself to see only what he wanted to see?

When he was compared to his cousin, he was found badly lacking. Colonel Fitzwilliam's easy manners, humour and amiability were much better qualities than Darcy had.

The longer Maria talked to him, the more Darcy convinced himself that his cousin was better for Elizabeth. Colonel Fitzwilliam, though not as well off as he was, certainly had enough to support himself and a wife. If one was to forget fortune, Darcy could see no reason why Elizabeth would not want his cousin.

Darcy remembered very well what jealousy he had experienced whenever he had observed Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth talking, laughing, both enjoying each other's company.

Fitzwilliam had told him that he had no intention of marrying Elizabeth. But should be become of her feelings, would that change?

"What a pity that the militia have left! Their company was greatly welcome; though would you believe, when Lydia went away, it was said that Mr. Wickham was a very bad man indeed. I can't see why people would say that - I liked him very much. Lydia is so very lucky!"

Darcy closed his eyes. He wondered how Elizabeth had fared when Mr. and Mrs. Wickham had come to visit.

By now, Bingley began to draw the visit to a close. Darcy thankfully joined in the farewells, eager to get away from Maria's conversation that was causing him so much pain and doubt.

 **To the guest that believes I'm hiding** **comments as a "cunning way to get more reviews": to be honest, I'm extremely insulted that you would think so of me. I don't write for status as the "most reviewed P &P story" or whatever you thought. I write for the enjoyment of myself and others. However, in my situation, with two Harvard graduates as parents yelling at me constantly to stop wasting my time doing "useless things" and delete all my stories, yes, it's hard to find time to update. And so yes, I feel less inclined to fight my parents to publish this story and update if people don't care. I'm sorry if you think that's low, but there's no need to accuse me of such a horrible thing. My conclusion statement: if and once you start writing, you will understand.**

 **To all my other readers, this update is for you. You guys brighten my day and feel free to contact me- I love interacting with all of you! Enjoy!**


	46. Chapter 46

Part 46: Decisions

The second day passed in much the same way as the first, though there were no visitors. Darcy was grateful for this; he needed privacy to sort out his thoughts and feelings.

He kept thinking of Colonel Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth. The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed to him that Elizabeth had a great affection for his cousin.

But troubled as he was, he was not blind to the behaviour of his friend. Bingley seemed increasingly uncomfortable. Sometimes he would begin to say something to Darcy, then suddenly break off. Finally, in evening of the second day, Darcy confronted Bingley over it.

"What is it you keep wanting to talk to me about, Bingley?"

Bingley blushed a little then said, "It's nothing of importance."

Darcy was not one to give up easily and pressed his friend further.

Bingley did not look at him as he spoke. "I was wondering, would you like to visit the Bennets tomorrow?" At Darcy's expression, he hurriedly added, "We do not have to go so soon, we could wait for a few more days."

Darcy closed his eyes. Did he want to see Elizabeth? He did not know where they stood with each other. He loved her, but what did she feel for him? Friendship at the most, while perhaps her heart belonged to another.

But he did not have to go for her. He had to see if Jane still loved his friend.

"Do you want to see Jane Bennet?" he replied simply.

Bingley looked up. Darcy smiled at him.

Bingley looked down at the floor. "To tell the truth - yes." He sighed. "I still think of her, I suppose I still harbor affection for her. I know that you told me that she is indifferent to me, but I still cannot stop myself from wanting to see Jane again."

"Perhaps I was wrong." His friend stared at him. Darcy continued, "What if my observations of Miss Bennet were incorrect? As much as your sister believes the contrary, I am far from perfect." He smiled at his statement.

"But, but - " stammered Bingley.

"Bingley, I am not always right in my judgements," he continued. "I can even be wrong about my own feelings. Remember how I once said Elizabeth Bennet wasn't handsome enough to tempt me? Look at how wrong I was about that."

His friend thought about this for a while. "Yes, you have seemed to have altered your opinion on that. I didn't know you had admitted it to yourself."

Darcy looked away. "I have known for a long time," he said softly.

"So you believe that Jane returns my affections?" said Bingley earnestly. "You think that her connections and family are not so bad as you once thought?"

"They are no longer important, if you love her."

Bingley sat back in his chair, looking away.

"So I have your approval?"

"It is your decision," chastised Darcy. "All I will say that if you intend to court her, then I shall not protest."

Bingley thought, then said determinedly, "Right, then we shall visit Longbourn tomorrow."

Darcy smiled, partly sharing Bingley's happiness, partly to hide his own uneasiness.

He lay awake in his bed that night, wondering what to do during their visit, how to behave. He would not be comfortable, not with Elizabeth there, knowing that she would never be his.

Unable to sleep, he got out of bed and looked out the window, across the field, his mind three miles away.

 _If all goes well, Bingley's happiness is but days from being fulfilled. How could I have been so proud as to think Jane wrong for Bingley? There is no one who can make him as happy as she can._

He sighed. _And Elizabeth? There is no one who can complete my life except her. But if her heart does not lie with me, then I will not force it. Her happiness is all I desire._

Darcy turned back to his bed. Tomorrow, he would see Elizabeth and he would do his best not to let his emotions overcome his good sense. He would merely watch Jane Bennet for any signs of regard for his friend, and then confess all to Bingley.

Perhaps he should go to London for a while. Bingley would want privacy to court Jane, and Darcy did not know if he wanted to be in Bingley's company after telling him of his deceit.

Decision made, he slept. His slumber was uneasy though, as all he dreamt of was that evening in Rosings, when he, an outsider, watched as Elizabeth had played the piano, his cousin Richard Fitzwilliam by her side.


	47. Chapter 47

Part 45: Visit to Longbourn

Soon after breakfast, Bingley and Darcy were leisurely riding across the fields to a destination three miles away. As the distance between them and Longbourn decreased, Darcy did his best to calm himself.

 _Don't look at her; remember, you are to observe Jane,_ he kept repeating to himself.

Soon, they had entered the paddock near Longbourn and were riding towards the house. Darcy fancied he saw some movement behind one of the windows but ignored it. All too soon, they had arrived. They dismounted and entered the house.

They were greeted at the door by the housekeeper. She asked them to wait while she announced their arrival. From the muffled sounds coming from the drawing room, Darcy imagined the female members of the Bennet family were quickly preparing for the gentlemen's visit.

"Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy, ma'am," announced the housekeeper, entering the room before them.

Bingley quickly walked inside, a large smile on his face as he saw the ladies of the family inside. Mr. Bennet, Darcy imagined, was enclosed in his library. Quietly, seriously, Darcy followed Bingley. Proceeding through the usual ceremonious greeting, he chanced a quick glance at Elizabeth. There was no smile on her face like he so fondly remembered.

Bingley was warmly received by Mrs. Bennet, who in contrast, was pointedly cold and polite to Darcy. Darcy did not mind so much as he might have, knowing her bad opinion of him had been well founded. However, when he looked again at Elizabeth, she blushed slightly, as if ashamed for her mother. He wished that he could reassure her, that he did not hold any resentment against Mrs. Bennet but it was impossible to do so.

Mrs. Bennet quickly accosted Bingley in conversation, leaving her daughters, sitting at the table working at their embroidery and Darcy, standing to one side. Though he stood close to Elizabeth, she did not look at him.

"Miss Elizabeth," Darcy addressed her after some minutes, "how do your aunt and uncle, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner?"

She turned slightly to look at him.

"I believe they are quite well, or they were when I saw them last," replied Elizabeth, sounding somewhat confused.

Darcy nodded, knowing he must put some distance between himself and her before he was tempted to further the conversation. He quietly moved to stand behind Bingley, who was seated facing Mrs. Bennet. Mrs. Bennet was still gaily chatting to Bingley, completely ignoring him. Her daughters were silent, their eyes lowered to their work.

Thoughtfully, he turned his eyes to Jane Bennet.

Time had not dimmed her beauty, and though she seemed busy, he fancied he observed her glance every now and again at Bingley. Though she seemed serene, there was something of hope and longing reflected in her eyes whenever she looked at his friend.

Opposite Jane sat Elizabeth. Darcy found his eyes wandering to her and had to keep reminding himself of his objective on this visit. When he had caught himself looking at Elizabeth for the fifth time, he mentally chastised himself and turned his eyes to the floor. Suddenly, she asked him,

"Mr. Darcy, I hope Miss Darcy was well when you left her?"

Surprised, he glanced up and replied, "Yes, she is very well."

There the conversation ended.

"It is a long time, Mr. Bingley, since you went away," said Mrs. Bennet.

He readily agreed to it.

"I began to be afraid you would never come back again. People _did_ say that you meant to quit the place entirely at Michaelmas; but, however, I hope it is not true."

Darcy smiled to himself; of course Mrs. Bennet wanted to Bingley to remain at Netherfield. She had obviously not lost her hopes of Bingley marrying Jane, and if Darcy had anything to say about it, her wish would be granted.

Tea was called for and Mrs. Bennet continued talking to Bingley.

"A great many changes have happened in the neighbourhood, since you went away. Miss Lucas is married and settled. And one of my own daughters."

Darcy flinched slightly, surely Mrs. Bennet was not going to speak of Mr. and Mrs. Wickham?

"I suppose you have heard of it; indeed you must have seen it in the papers. It was in the _Times_ and the _Courier_ , I know; though it was not put in properly. It only said, 'Lately, George Wickham, Esq. to Miss Lydia Bennet,' without a syllable said of her father, or the place she lived, or anything. It was my brother Gardiner's drawing up too, and I wonder how he came to make such an awkward business of it. Did you see it?" Mrs. Bennet asked Bingley.

During this rendition, Darcy had disgustedly turned away from the company and forced himself to look out the window. Bingley replied that he did, and gave his congratulations.

 _The notice was done purposefully, with the knowledge that the less said of Lydia's actions, the better. Some people might not have wanted it announced to the world that their relation's reputation had to be mended with a patched-up marriage,_ he thought to himself.

He did not dare look back at Elizabeth, remembering how she had been when he had come upon her in the Lambton Inn, soon after receiving news of Lydia's elopement. How she looked now, he could not tell.

Without a thought as to the tension in the room, Mrs. Bennet continued again.

"It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter well married," (here Darcy restrained a contemptuous laugh) "but at the same time, Mr. Bingley, it is very hard to have her taken such a way from me. They have gone down to Newcastle, a place quite northward, it seems, and there they are to stay, I do not know how long. His regiment is there; for I suppose you have heard of his leaving the shire, and of his being gone into the regulars. Thank Heaven! he has _some_ friends, though perhaps not as many as he deserves," she finished pointedly at Darcy, who remained facing the window. However, he did turn slightly, thinking how ignorant Mrs. Bennet was as to the _true_ circumstances of Mr. Wickham's friends.

 _But at least this shows that she has no idea as to my involvement._

Provoked, perhaps by her mother's remark, Elizabeth spoke up.

"Do you intend to stay long in the neighbourhood, Mr. Bingley?" she asked.

After some hesitation, Bingley replied that they would stay some weeks, "I hope very much, we shall stay a few weeks," he said. A glance behind him told Darcy that his friend was looking with some eagerness at Jane Bennet.

Jane seemed very pleased with Bingley's decision.

Perhaps she still felt affection for his friend?

He turned to Elizabeth. She, however, seemed half-alarmed at Bingley's announcement, as if not knowing whether to delight in it or fear their stay.

"When you have killed all your own birds, Mr. Bingley," said Mrs. Bennet, "I beg you will come here and shoot as many as you please, on Mr. Bennet's manor. I am sure he will be vastly happy to oblige you, and will save all the best of the coveys for you."

Darcy pretended not to notice the unnecessary and officious attention Mrs. Bennet was giving to Bingley.

"I suppose you may bring your friends," said Mrs. Bennet, in a tone that said the very opposite.

Darcy could see Elizabeth's ashamed expression reflected in the window. He wished he could somehow tell her that he could now look past her mother's behaviour. He may not _like_ Mrs. Bennet, but could bear her rudeness and coldness to him.

Tea was now served, and though he spoke to no one, Darcy carefully observed Jane Bennet as she, responded to Bingley's attentions. Bingley seemed uncomfortable at first, speaking to Jane, but after some minutes, his hesitancy dissolved and he was soon carrying the conversation. Jane spoke little, but her eyes spoke volumes. She kept looking at Bingley with a controlled passion and hope that Darcy mentally kicked himself for having missed before. Had he not interfered, Bingley would now be happily married.

So absorbed was he in watching his friend and Jane, he did not notice Elizabeth coming to stand beside him.

She remained silent at first, uncomfortable as he could easily see. He hoped that none of his own discomfort was apparent.

"I hope your family is in the best of health," she said finally.

Darcy looked at her. She did not look back at him.

"Yes, Georgiana is intently improving her music skills this winter. I must thank you for helping her overcome her discomfort in performing to others."

Elizabeth blushed slightly and thanked him.

"I'm very glad to hear it," she said "And your cousin, how is Colonel Fitzwilliam?"

Darcy hesitated before answering. "He is very well also."

Elizabeth nodded. When none of them ventured to further the conversation, Darcy quickly moved away, not wanting to remain so close to the love he could never have.

When the gentlemen rose to go away, Mrs. Bennet invited and engaged them to dine at Longbourn in a few days time.

"You have quite a visit in my debt, Mr. Bingley," she added, "for when you went to town last winter, you promised to take a family dinner with us, as soon as you returned. I have not forgot, you see; and I assure you, I was very much disappointed that you did not come back and keep your engagement."

Bingley looked a little silly at this reflection, and said something of his concern, at having been prevented by business. They then went away.

Darcy did not look back as they rode down the road back to Netherfield. He was too deep in thought to respond to Bingley's jubilant delight at returning on Tuesday. If he had ever wished for proof that Elizabeth cared for his cousin, he now had it.

 _Don't dwell on that now,_ he told himself, _such thoughts will only depress you. You would not wish to wreck Bingley's coming happiness._

Jane, he was happy to see, still showed signs that she still loved Bingley. Darcy resolved to confirm this, during the dinner on Tuesday.

After that, he promised himself to tell Bingley everything.

How lucky his friend was! Darcy wished that he could only have half of Bingley's luck in love. If he had that, his life would be complete indeed.

 _If I had Elizabeth,_ he thought sadly as they arrived home.

 **Is it possible to love your readers more?! I literally cannot express my love for you guys. You brighten my day with all your kind reviews and I cannot thank you enough for all your love and support. I am literally overwhelmed.**

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	48. Update

Hey all,

so sorry for the delay in updates- life is hectic and honestly overwhelming. Please comment if you would like this story to be finished.


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